


The Fall of Anakin Skywalker

by ceridwen_2020



Series: Rewriting the Prequel Trilogy [4]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anakin turns to the Dark Side, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Gen, Lightsaber Battles (Star Wars), Miscarriage, Space Battles, Unplanned Pregnancy, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:53:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 95,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27359848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceridwen_2020/pseuds/ceridwen_2020
Summary: Fighting the CLONE Wars has taken its toll on Anakin Skywalker, the brilliant, if troubled, Jedi Knight and General of the Republic Army. As the war comes uncomfortably close to Coruscant, the centre of the Republic, tensions grow worse and Anakin begins to doubt that the Jedi have the right approach to the conflict. With Chancellor Palpatine seeking his counsel more and more, so begins Anakin's slide into confusion, supporting the machinations of the hidden Sith Lord, who is close to wreaking his terrible revenge.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Sheev Palpatine & Anakin Skywalker
Series: Rewriting the Prequel Trilogy [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995421
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	1. Prologue

Under a darkened sky lay the besieged city planet of Coruscant, sporadically lit as a fierce battle raged in the upper atmosphere. The forces of the Republic were pitched against the CLONE above the city-planet; ten destroyers surrounded the planet, sending out seemingly endless squadrons of CLONE fighters which had only just been met by the Republic’s own starfleet, hastily recalled from the Outer Rim. The CLONE wars had finally reached the hitherto safe capital, sending the Holonet into paroxysms of concern. Reports suggested that the CLONE sought a foothold in the symbolic capital of the Republic, that they were going to destroy the Senate, that the manufacturing sectors were their target; that the CLONE wanted to cripple the Republic at its very centre. Since the war had begun, the citizens of Coruscant had followed its victories and losses in a glorious soap opera and now the battle was right above their skies. For the first time real panic was setting in. In the absence of the Chancellor - meeting the CLONE to re-open negotiations quite against the advice of the Senate and the Jedi Council - responses from the Senate became irrational. There was a demand for tighter security, a demand for more troops, a desire for more money to be spent on the war to protect the city-planet that should never have become a target. Questions were asked and answers demanded. Inevitably conspiracies were whispered in hallways and judgements made behind closed doors. The provisional government, made up of the so-called Loyalist Senators supported by Jedi Masters Mace Windu and Ki adi mundi, struggled to keep these demands in check, doing all they could to work with the Army High Command to concentrate resources on the threat facing Coruscant whilst at the same time ensuring that the position of strength in the Outer Rim was not depleted unduly. It was a difficult balancing act.

Then came the news that rocked the capital of the Republic to its very core. A broadcast came from the CLONE that they had abducted Chancellor Palpatine and his escort, two of the finest Jedi Masters, Shaak Ti and Stass Allie, and destroyed the three battalions of the finest Republican Guard sent to protect him. Yet this was the only information the CLONE would provide and no amount of negotiation had managed to reveal the whereabouts of the Chancellor and two Jedi; they had been spirited away to some unknown system to meet an unknown fate. Strangely the CLONE had not sought to take advantage of their coup. There had been no request for a ransom, no demands made; still the blockade remained above Coruscant, as if the CLONE were waiting for a sign only known to them. The political repercussions of the Chancellor’s abduction only served to deepen the divisiveness that racked the Senate. Irrational rumours abounded that not enough was being done to find the Chancellor, that the provisional government had planned the kidnapping in order to augment their own control. The Jedi were implicated as well as the Loyalist Senators, who were compelled to do all they could to find the Chancellor, making it their main priority despite other pressing matters. Every available intelligence was sent out across the Galaxy to look for the smallest of signals that would lead them to the Chancellor. And urgent messages were sent out to the only two individuals in the Galaxy who would be able to find the Chancellor. Who laughed in the face of impossibility, who could defy any odds you cared to throw at them. There could only be two: Kenobi and Skywalker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this alternative for the Prequel Trilogy in 2008-2013 (!) so some of it reads very poorly now, especially with the animated series of the Clone Wars to compare with. I also don't like my ending of this chapter so I think I'm going to rewrite it differently, especially around Padme. I always thought it sad that she didn't get to live and spend time with at least one of her babies for a few years at least, which, for me, is suggested by Leia's words in Return of the Jedi.


	2. Brothers Divided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Obi-wan make a daring attempt to rescue Chancellor Palpatine but are captured by Dooku after finding the remains of the two Jedi sent to protect him. With her dying breath, Shaak Ti has an important message for Obi-wan, don't trust the Chancellor, but Anakin ignores it. Taking Dooku off guard, the two Jedi engage him in battle where Anakin finds a new strength in the Force and finally defeats their long-time enemy.

“We have found the location of the Chancellor. The co-ordinates are being sent to your location now. Absolute secrecy must be maintained so they have been encrypted, secure level 302.”  
On the Republic flagship, Anakin and Obi-wan were listening to the projected hologram of Mace Windu. Both Jedi had been campaigning separately on the Outer Rim when they received the news of the Chancellor’s abduction, now they were reunited for the first time in months to mount a rescue mission.  
“We are counting on you two," continued Master Windu’s hologram, "The Senate have demanded this mission be given top priority and we cannot move forward with other plans until this has been accomplished.”  
“We are ready,” said Obi-wan firmly, glancing across to Anakin who nodded in response. “Have you found evidence that Dooku and Grievous are involved?”  
"Intelligence has found nothing specific," admitted the hologram of Windu, "but privately we would not be surprised. Only Dooku would have the audacity to attempt such an act."  
"We'll be prepared for anything," said Anakin confidently, wondering if Dooku and the CLONE had finally gone too far. The Republic was throwing every resource it had at recovering the Chancellor - but maybe that was what the CLONE wanted? They could overrun the Outer Rim whilst the Republic’s attention was focused elsewhere. However, it was no time for idle speculation and he focused his mind back on the mission at hand.  
"We do not doubt it," smiled the hologram, "May the Force be with you." The hologram flickered once and disappeared.  
“I’ll take care of these co-ordinates,” said Obi-wan to Anakin, immediately getting down to business, “you read out the mission specifics.”  
Scanning the data being processed in front of him, Anakin had to read quickly, “It seems they’ve tracked the signal of Shaak Ti to the Anoat system… to a CLONE destroyer hidden by the moon of Deyer… rescuing the Chancellor is our top priority, not engaging Dooku or Grievous if their presence is found… to keep the Chancellor out of danger at all costs… if that does involve facing Dooku or Grievous we are to bring them back alive to Coruscant for questioning.” Reaching the end of the statement Anakin looked across to his friend, “Not asking for much are they?”  
“I suppose the capture of Dooku would strengthen the Republic’s position against the CLONE,” suggested Obi-wan, finishing his encryption and starting the download of the co-ordinates to both their comlinks, “I hear the bombardment above Coruscant continues day and night, with little respite.”  
Anakin too had heard about the bombardment of Coruscant, the news had reached even to the almost deserted stretches of the Outer Rim. It sharply reminded him that civilians such as Padmé were now in as much danger as he was, giving him new motivation to defeat the CLONE.  
"Alright, co-ordinates are set." Going over to the console on the wall, Obi-wan pressed the comlink; "Come in Commander Uul."  
"Receiving you loud and clear General Kenobi. What can I do for you?"  
"Estimated arrival to destination, please."  
"About two parsecs," returned the Commander, "have you received the co-ordinates?"  
"Transmitting them now," Obi-wan gestured to Anakin who initiated the required sequence on the console. "Have the fleet ready for combat as soon as we come out of hyperspace."  
"Roger that, signing out."  
Obi-wan looked at Anakin, "Ready?"  
"You bet."  
The two Jedi made their way down to the hangars of the Republic battle cruiser, already a hive of activity as the fleet prepared itself for imminent combat. Feelings were running high in both men, although to a different degree. Anakin was excited about getting back into his fighter after months on the ground, Obi-wan was keen to find out exactly what happened to their Jedi colleagues.  
“I don’t think this mission is going to be easy,” worried Obi-wan, "we still don't really know where the Chancellor is."  
“When is anything ever easy? We'd be suspicious if it was." They could not ignore the possibility that the information about Shaak Ti was a ruse to draw them away from the real location of the Chancellor.  
“I see your point. Just don't get carried away," warned the more cautious of the two Jedi, "especially if it is a trap."  
Reaching the hangar, they hurried through the hustle and bustle to their two fighters; showing the wear and tear sustained during the CLONE wars, technicians were busy loading them with fuel and supplies. Each fighter also had its customary droid and Artoo Detoo beeped excitedly as soon as he saw Anakin approaching.  
“Alright Artoo?” called Anakin, waving cheerily to the droid.  
"Pal of yours?" laughed the technician sat in Anakin's cockpit calibrating the controls.  
"You could say so, we've been through a lot together that droid and I." Turning back to Obi-wan, Anakin asked what their strategy would be once they reached their destination.  
“Try and follow my lead,” said Obi-wan briskly, already feeling the nervous distraction that came with flying and thoughts of flying, “but I don't know why, you are the better pilot after all.”  
“Oh, I don’t know,” smiled Anakin, “you carried yourself well on Arakhan.”  
“Yes, yes,” retorted the older Jedi, “just don't try anything fancy and I'll be alright."  
"May the Force be with you," said Anakin, greatly aware of the danger they were heading into. It was likely the Chancellor would be well guarded.  
Clapping his friend on the back, Obi-wan made his way over to his fighter and climbed into the cramped cockpit, making himself as comfortable as he could. Fitting his transmitter he adjusted the controls, “Copy Anakin?”  
“Loud and clear,” came Anakin’s voice over the tiny microphone, sounding a little too cheery for Obi-wan’s liking. “I can’t wait to get these buckets into the air."

“What do you mean the Senate is closed?” Padmé looked in askance at the guards at the entrance. “I was not informed.” Behind them the Senate loomed, darker and more foreboding than she remembered it.  
However her bullish attitude was not enough to stir the hearts or minds of security. “My lady, this area is out of bounds until we have conducted a thorough search.”  
“I see.” Padmé wanted to ask what they were searching for but she sensed the guard was in no mood to exchange pleasantries. “On whose orders?”  
“The Executive’s orders,” was all they would say.  
Baffled, Senator Amidala headed back to her transport, a newly armoured speeder, where Captain Typho was waiting. “Did you find out what has happened?”  
“No, they won’t tell me anything,” said Padmé, climbing back into the speeder.   
“Are you certain the message indicated that you should come to the Senate?”  
“I thought so at the time,” mused the young Senator, “but I was in such a rush this morning, maybe I misread it.”  
One thing that endeared Padmé to her retinue was her readiness to admit her own fallibilities, not something all individuals of her status were capable of. “We should go and see Senator Organa,” replied the Captain, throwing the speeder into reverse. “I’m sure he’ll give you a straight answer.”  
She stared out the window impassively as they negotiated the burning, wrecked buildings that surrounded the Senate, victims of the recent offensive. Despite the lull in the aerial bombardment, the skyways had remained empty except for essential traffic and it did not take them long to reach the Senator’s office high up in one the looming skyscraper that had fortunately escaped major damage.  
Emitted into Bail Organa’s office, Senator Amidala was escorted to a nearby meeting room where she found the Senator was not alone; grouped around the room were a dozen Senators, and Masters Mace Windu, Hedi Junnan and Ki ali Mundi, the very group she had expected to meet at the Senate.  
“Senator Amidala!”  
“I can only give my sincere apologies, Senator,” said Padmé briskly, as Senator Organa jumped up to greet her, “for the lateness of my…”  
“But my lady, we feared the worst,” he said, coming over and motioning her to sit down upon a nearby couch. “We were beginning to think that you had been caught up in the terrible events.”  
“Why what has happened?” Padmé was mystified.  
“Have you not heard?” asked Ki adi Mundi, looking at her in amazement, “an attempt has been made upon the Senate.”  
“By who?”  
“We are not certain yet,” said Bail, “but less than an hour ago a chain of explosives was found rigged up in the central chamber, primed to explode at the very moment the Senate would be meeting to discuss the new budgetary measures.”  
“I can’t believe it,” gasped Padmé, realising how close she had been to danger. Obviously the note sent to her had been designed to ensure she was in the building when it exploded.  
“That is why we are holding the meeting here my lady,” continued Bail, fetching her something to drink, “the Senate has been out of bounds since the plot was discovered this morning. My office sent round a message, did you not receive it?”  
“The message I received told me to go to the Senate.” Padmé was beginning to wonder if it was more than coincidence that she had been targeted.  
“The Senate?” Bail looked puzzled, “I think it is I who should apologise, I will seek the cause of this, my lady.”  
Padmé tried to smile and took a seat next to the Jedi. “It is fortunate that for once I was late.”  
“We are happy to see you,” said Hedi Junnan, taking the Senator’s hand in hers, “we were fearful for your safety.”  
“Thank you Master Junnan,” replied Padmé, feeling less shaky now she was with friends.  
“Now we are all present,” began Bail, taking his own seat, “we can begin this meeting. Firstly, for those who are not aware, the location of the Chancellor has been discovered, although it remains classified for the time-being. Generals Kenobi and Skywalker have been sent at the head of the rescue mission.”  
“I believed they were in the Outer Rim?” asked one of the Senators.  
“They were recalled especially,” explained Bail, “the High Command did not want to entrust this sensitive mission to anyone else.”  
“It is a relief,” said Terr Tanell, adjusting the volume on her translator, “to know that the mission in the hands of two very capable Jedi.”  
So he was still alive! Sequestered on Coruscant, Padmé had only heard terrible rumours that Anakin and Obi-wan had gone missing or, worse, had been killed in action. For many months her love had existed only as an image on the Holonet and it was only through sheer force of will that she managed to keep her relief and excitement under wraps.  
“We hope that they will succeed,” agreed Bail, keen to press on with the meeting. “Now the second item concerns the proposal put forward by the united systems of Magalare to increase…"

The battle cruiser emerged from the dazzling monotony of hyperspace close to a giant green-grey ball of shifting, freezing, gaseous liquids, otherwise known as the planet Deyer. The Anoat system was barely habited, its three planets inhospitable to all but the most tenacious of species. As Obi-wan reflected, it was the perfect place to bring the Chancellor.  
The two fighters, one red, one yellow, streamed away from the cruiser at the head of the Republic’s fleet. Expecting trouble, Anakin checked his scanners but energy levels around the planet fluctuated and refused to stabilise; “Artoo, can you get a reading for me?”  
The droid bleeped in agreement, after a moment filtering the information through to his monitors.  
“Can you get a reading, Anakin?” came Obi-wan’s voice over his earpiece, “my scanners are all over the place.”  
“One minute,” said Anakin into his comlink, scanning the monitor. Eventually the information he needed flashed up into the screen, “Okay, got it. Shaak Ti’s signal is coming from the eastern side of that small moon.”   
The moon in question was suspended against the black fastness of space, looking very small in front of its larger parent planet, the detritus of some larger concern or remnants of a broken constellation lost in time.   
“The CLONE fleet is likely to be on the other side,” said Anakin, opening his throttle and streaking across the empty space, followed very quickly, if less enthusiastically, by Obi-wan.  
As they reached the moon, Anakin was soon proved right; a large fleet was waiting for them on the other side. Four Star Destroyers, deadly dagger-shaped ships equipped with extensive shields and guns, were lined up in formation around the jewel of the CLONE’s fleet; the Dreadnought Integrity, a colossal ship bristling with guns, able to pulverise anything in its path in a matter of seconds. The ships were more than a match for the Republic’s battle cruisers and the High Command had brought together the largest ever fleet for this mission to keep the CLONE engaged whilst the two Jedi located Chancellor Palpatine.  
“I bet Grievous is on that command ship,” said Anakin to Obi-wan as he calculated their proposed trajectory.  
“I don’t like the look of this.” Jittery at the best of times, Obi-wan did not like the idea of having to fly past the Integrity to get to the Chancellor.  
“What? It’s only a few ships,” tutted Anakin, adjusting his sensors a final time, “Right, I’ve calculated the quickest path through, all you have to do is follow me.”  
“Remember, no fancy manoeuvres please,” commanded Obi-wan as they headed towards the hostile force, “only do whatever is necessary to get us to the Chancellor.”  
“Of course,” in his cockpit Anakin smiled to himself. Obi-wan was always so tense when it came to flying. He really did need to lighten up. “Basic manoeuvres only.”  
“And I mean my basic not your basic,” continued Obi-wan, “Just to be absolutely, categorically certain.”  
“Artoo,” Anakin spoke into the mike, simultaneously checking all scanners, “try and avoid too many entanglements. For General Kenobi’s sake of course.”  
Artoo bleeped in a way that sounded suspiciously like a snigger.  
“Anakin,” said Obi-wan sceptically, “since when did you programme Artoo to recognise humour?”  
“What makes you think I am responsible?” replied Anakin, glancing out the cockpit to the droid snugly ensconced to the front of the fighter. It was true he had made many adjustments to the astromech droid but he had not added anything in the way of personality, Artoo seemed to have developed one all on its own.  
“Commander Uul can you read me?” Obi-wan spoke to the leader of the Republic fleet on their tail.  
“Loud and clear, General.”  
“We’re going in, send some of your fighters ahead of us to clear the way.”  
“Roger that.”  
With a greater degree of calm, Obi-wan watched from the comfort of his cockpit as two formations of six Republic fighters streaked past his ship to engage the enemy.  
“Let’s go,” came Anakin’s impatient voice over the comlink, “there’s no use in sitting around all day.”  
“Off we go then,” concurred the older Jedi, watching as Anakin’s yellow fighter blazed a trail in front of his ship before opening his own throttle and following in the younger Jedi’s wake.  
Soon the two Jedi had joined the chaotic melee; CLONE and Republic fighters engaged in a murderous ballet, unlucky ships exploding against the ray shields of the larger ships as they became too close, nasty dogfights developing as laser fire cross-crossed continuously.  
Obi-wan bounced through the resultant flak, frowning, “Why did I agree to this?”   
Checking his scopes, Anakin said urgently, “Watch out, we’ve been spotted.” Seeing the two fighters, four of the CLONE destroyers had peeled away from the main group and were heading towards them.  
“Oh good,” said Obi-wan nervously, “I was afraid something like this might happen.” Switching the channel, Obi-wan attempted to contact the leader of the Republic fleet, “Commander Uul, do you copy?”  
“General Kenobi,” came the familiar voice of the Commander, “How can we be of assistance?”  
“We need some help,” explained the Jedi, “can you watch our backs whilst we slip past those Destroyers?”  
“We’ll be right behind you, General Kenobi.”  
This was the moment Anakin lived for; “Great, now the fun begins.” He grinned to himself in the safety of the cockpit.  
“Hold on Anakin,” cried Obi-wan, checking his scopes, “five more fighters are coming in on the left.”  
“I see them.”  
“Take it easy,” replied Obi-wan, swerving to avoid a burst of fire. But it was something he knew was easier said than for Anakin to observe.  
All hell broke loose.   
“Here we go!” whooped Anakin. He was determined to maintain his course and that meant going right through the CLONE fighters.  
“What are you doing?” asked Obi-wan, struggling to understand Anakin’s logic.  
“Maintaining our course,” said Anakin, “there’s no time to go around them.”  
Obi-wan’s expletive-ridden comment was drowned out by Anakin’s shout of triumph as two of the enemy fighters exploded into their component parts, briefly lighting up the darkness of space.  
“Right, who’s next?” He looked gleefully at the scanner; the only trouble was deciding which CLONE fighter to target first.  
“Anakin!” yelled Obi-wan over the comlink, “we’re supposed to be passing through not engaging in a fight!”  
“We might as well take a few of them with us,” replied Anakin, frowning as he sensed another it’s not part of our mandate lecture from Obi-wan. “Besides they’re clinging to us like mynocks, there’s no other way to get past them.”  
After a few near misses, Obi-wan had to admit that he was right. Two fighters were particularly close on their tail. “What do you suggest?” he asked, grimacing as his ship was buffeted by yet another volley of laser fire.  
“Head for that battle cruiser,” said Anakin, maximising the power to the aft shields, “I’ll cover you.”  
“What for?” Obi-wan couldn’t understand the tactic.  
“Just do it,” insisted Anakin, “you’ll have to trust me on this.”  
“That instils me with so much confidence.”  
Diving steeply towards the surface of the battleship, Obi-wan was beginning to think that the idea was a bad one; forced to fly through a maelstrom of laser flack he tightly gripped the controls as the ship was buffeted from both sides, skimming along the surface of the hull, still pursued by the two fighters. There seemed to be no sign of Anakin’s ship.  
“Blast it Anakin!” cried Obi-wan, suddenly worried, “where are you?”  
There was no reply.  
“He’s done it this time.” Reaching a narrow gap between the two towers of the battleship, Obi-wan twisted his ship through.   
The CLONE fighters made to follow his lead when suddenly Anakin’s distinctive yellow fighter dived in from nowhere firing at the two ships until one exploded. He was not so lucky with the second and instead the CLONE fighter managed to lose a few blasts at Obi-wan’s ship. Parts of the fin exploded in a mass of metal, hitting the astromech droid and causing the ship to sway alarming to the left.  
“Hey!” Obi-wan looked at the console in alarm, seeing the damage.  
R4 bleeped angrily, extending a tiny arm from its hatch, lowering it towards the damaged section of the ship.   
“Leave it, Arfour, I've shut it down,” muttered Obi-wan into his comlink, beginning to feel the tension rising in his cramped cockpit.  
“This time we've got him,” came Anakin’s hopeful voice over the radio as he loosed another round of fire towards the hapless CLONE. He crowed as the fighter was ripped apart, showering both Jedi fighters in numerous fragments.  
“You took your time,” muttered Obi-wan, not pleased with the display of skill from his companion.  
“Sorry, Master. But I can’t fly your ship for you.”  
“Right, let’s get out of here before I sustain any more damage.”   
“Hang on,” said Anakin, the adrenaline rushing through his system, “there are more of them out there.”  
“Stay with me,” demanded Obi-wan, “there’s no time to go running off.”  
“They’re too close.” Throwing his fighter into a steep dive, Anakin ended up behind the two CLONE fighters so unexpectedly that he had dispatched them before his ship even registered on their scanners. Another victory for the young Jedi!  
Into his ear poor Artoo bleeped frantically as they flew through the debris of the ships, battered by the energy unleashed with their destruction.   
“What’s that Artoo?”  
“Anakin, there’s two on your tail!” Obi-wan felt rising nausea as he tried to keep up with Anakin’s reckless flying strategy. “Wait a minute, four more from the left…”  
“I know. I know!” Anakin was thinking all at once. He skimmed his ship along the hull of the battleship almost grazing it, dodging flack, hoping that the pilots would be less experienced, more likely to make a mistake…  
“Anakin, be careful,” admonished Obi-wan over the radio. “You’ll be no use to me in pieces.”  
Inside his cockpit, Anakin frowned, “Then come and help me out!”  
Muttering unpleasant thoughts about his companion under his breath, Obi-wan did as he was told. “Just keep me steady R4.”  
Poor Artoo bounced along, trying to understand the strategy of his Master. He squealed in fright as Anakin flew particularly close a gun tower, pulling up sharply at the last possible moment.  
“What was that Artoo?” asked Anakin, looking with pleasure at the scanner as two more ships disappeared from it. The moment’s distraction cost him a direct hit on the rear shield. “Blast it! How did that happen?”  
“Don’t worry Anakin!” Swooping down from above, Obi-wan caught one of the remaining two of the fighters, shooting it away from the younger Jedi’s ship in the nick of time.  
The pressure lifted, Anakin had no trouble destroying the final CLONE fighter. “Thanks, Obi-wan.”  
“No problem,” said Obi-wan, a touch smug. “Sometimes even the best pilots in the Galaxy need a little help from time to time.”  
The scrape left Anakin slightly shaken. Sometimes even his own recklessness disturbed him; as though he would go to any lengths to make the point that he was not afraid of anything. Not even death. “Right, let’s get out of here.”  
They peeled away from the enormous battle-scarred cruiser heading to the likely holding place of the Chancellor. Over the radio they could hear a dangerous scramble as the Republic fighters were trying to hold their own against the CLONE destroyers chucking out reams of laser beams, so many of them they clustered like raindrops around the Republic ships.  
“There are too many of them!” cried one of the pilots, his ship exploding into bright flames as the laser blasts ripped out the heart of the ship.  
“I'm on your wing,” chattered the radio, as another of the Republic fighters swooped low to intercept a struggling colleague.   
“Break left. Break left. They're all over me! Get them off my…”   
“We should help them out,” said Anakin, his finger hovering over the console.  
“No, no!” commanded Obi-wan. “There’s no time. We should be on that moon already.”  
Sighing, Anakin knew he was right. “Artoo, maintain present course.”  
Feeling exhausted, Obi-wan wiped his brow. “This is madness! Flying is for droids not Jedi!”

Nostalgia affected even the least likely of individuals; even a half organic, half cyborg had a past. With little better to do except wait, as ordered by Dooku, General Grievous was passing the time by thinking about his former life. It was not something that he did very often. But his memories had been triggered by the collection of lightsabers that hung around his spindly waist. Once upon a thousand years ago he had had a similar collection. Then he had been General Junwal Grievous of the Kaleesh; he had been a hero to his comrades, to his people. But not to the Jedi. To them he had always been a monster and they had proved that by wiping out most of his homeworld. But he had laughed at their revulsion. He had quickly learnt during the long wars that blighted the earlier history of the Republic that the Jedi were not all-powerful heroes that could not be defeated. Despite their connection to the Force, they were organic after all. Yet despite his deep loathing of everything the Jedi stood for, they retained a dark fascination for him that went beyond mere interest. For the dying Jedi warrior Sigi Patwah, whom he had mortally wounded on the battlefield of Angar, had predicted to him that a Jedi by the name of Obay wan Kenno would finally defeat him. His words had remained with him even after his death and rebirth in a useless and demeaning body. So far he had only met one Jedi whose name had sounded remotely similar. And so far he had managed to avoid him. But Obi-wan Kenobi kept catching up with him.   
“The troops are in position, General.”  
“Excellent. Hold them in place. All we have to do is keep the Jedi scum from escaping.”

Peering out from behind a rock, Obi-wan looked at the complex through his electrobinoculars. “This is strange, it looks deserted,” he said through his breathing mask. They had landed on the small moon to find Shaak Ti’s signal pulsating from a nondescript complex on the furtherest side from the CLONE fleet. It was a dull grey building, squat on the landscape and poorly protected. From their position, the two Jedi could not see any security or protection, which immediately put them on their guard.  
“Maybe that’s what we are meant to think,” frowned Anakin, sensing that something was not quite right.  
“It seems to have sustained a lot of damage,” continued Obi-wan, re-calibrating the settings to focus more closely on the roof of the complex, “the roof towards the eastern side is caving in.”  
As they took in this detail, the two Jedi became concerned that they were chasing a dead end. “Let’s look for Shaak Ti,” Anakin concluded. “Her signal is the only information we have and if she’s alive she can tell us what happened here.”  
If she’s alive. “I hope she is still alive.”  
They proceeded towards the complex cautiously. As they got closer, the mounds of featureless bare rock were revealed to be hiding piles of corpses, identifiable by their white armour as Republic troops. Obi-wan inspected one of the corpses to find that it had been killed by laser fire, “Perhaps they were lured here on false pretences?”  
“It’s beginning to look that way,” muttered Anakin, hoping that they too were not walking into the same trap.  
Eventually they found a door into the complex, wedged open by a pile of dead soldiers, Republic and CLONE. The Jedi were glad for their masks, the smell otherwise would have been unbearable. Pushing past the bodies, the two Jedi found themselves within a wide, featureless corridor, lined with grey panels familiar to CLONE command centres the Galaxy over.  
“Help me with the airlock,” said Obi-wan, gesturing to Anakin to start removing the bodies that were trapping the door open and preventing the artificial atmosphere from functioning correctly. It took them a while to remove them before the door would shut. Immediately upon closing, the airlock activated and the complex came back to life; the emergency lights flickered on and the atmosphere was reactivated. It was a tense moment for the Jedi, their hands on their lightsabers, waiting for the inevitable CLONE attack. But after a few minutes of silence, both relaxed and removed their breathing masks.  
“That’s better,” said Anakin, tucking his mask into his belt. Checking his comlink he pointed down the corridor, “the signal seems to be coming from this way.”  
The two Jedi made their way along the corridor cautiously, stepping over the corpses which lay where they had fallen. Shaak Ti’s signal was starting to bleep incessantly.  
“She’s close,” said Anakin quietly, pointing to a door set into the corridor wall ahead of them, “in there.”  
The door controls had been jammed shut and it took a lightsaber to get them open. Finally entering the room, the two Jedi found themselves in what appeared to be a large meeting room; a long table filled most of the space, surrounded by chairs. Whoever had been in the room had left in a hurry as the chairs had mostly been left askew or jutting out from the table. It was as functional and spartan as the rest of the complex; the single focal point for the eye was a large map of the Galaxy which illuminated the far wall. At first glance the rest of the room appeared to be empty but the two Jedi split up to search it more thoroughly.   
It was Anakin who found the bodies first. “Obi-wan, over here.”  
Rushing round to the left side of the room, Obi-wan found Anakin crouched over the bodies of Stass Allie and Shaak Ti. Stass was clearly dead, a large bloodstain covering her tunic, cuts to her face and hands. Her lightsaber lay just out of reach beneath the table; clearly she had been reaching for it when her end came.  
Anakin had his fingers on Shaak Ti’s neck, feeling for a pulse. “I think she’s still alive. Master Shaak Ti! Can you hear me?  
The Jedi’s eyes were closed, the montrals characteristic of the Togruta species drooped either side of her wan face, smeared an eerie blue from the light of Anakin’s lightsaber.   
“Anakin,” said Obi-wan sadly, seeing there was little hope, “I think…”  
There was a groan from the seemingly lifeless body and Shaak Ti’s eyes opened slowly. Seeing her two comrades, there was a glimmer of recognition in their depths, quickly subsumed by pain as she sought to speak, “Been waiting for you-”  
“No, don’t speak,” said Anakin gently, laying his hands on the forehead of the stricken Jedi, “We need to get you out of here.”  
“No time,” she murmured, her voice weak, “dying…” With a sudden burst of energy she grabbed both of their hands and gripped them tightly as though she needed to borrow some of their strength. “Dooku has set a trap… for you. The Chancellor… he’s not here, taken to the ship… But beware… the Chancellor he is not… on our side.” With one last gasp, her head slumped forward as the light dimmed in her eyes. Whatever strength she had found to deliver her message was finally gone.  
The two Jedi sat silently for a moment next to Shaak Ti’s broken body, willing her spirit be consigned to the Force for eternal rest.  
It was Anakin who spoke first. “Dooku will pay for this.”  
Obi-wan smoothed the eyelids over the dulled eyes of their comrade, “We have to find him first.”  
“Hands up, Jedi scum.” The gruff voice of a CLONE trooper was pointing his blaster right at them from across the table. Behind him, an entire battalion waited silently, their own weapons trained on the pair of Jedi.  
“Or he could find us,” coughed Obi-wan as Anakin glanced at him as if to say, where did they come from?

Taken to the command ship Integrity, Obi-wan and Anakin were marched along briskly by the CLONE troops. Eventually they were admitted into a large chamber at the very edge of the ship, with a large viewing platform at one end and a long table and chairs placed in the centre. Sat at the table in a curious, throne-like chair was Chancellor Palpatine; sat next to him was Count Dooku. The two were locked in a heated discussion.  
'Beware the Chancellor, he is not on our side': Shaak Ti’s words reverberated in Obi-wan’s head and he looked over to where the elderly man was sat. He did not seem to be restrained very tightly, only two laser binders secured him to the chair. However, the presence of the walking stick beside the chair reminded Obi-wan that the Chancellor would probably not get very far even if he tried to escape, which might explain the laxity of his captors.  
“At least we know he’s still alive,” whispered Anakin to Obi-wan as they were pushed further into the room by the CLONE guards.  
“Yes, but something’s not right,” muttered Obi-wan as Dooku looked up to see the two captives.  
A spurious smile spread slowly across his aged face. “My, my, only two Jedi? Rather a piteous rescue attempt for the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic considering we have already killed the two Jedi sent to accompany him.”  
“We found them at the complex as you anticipated, my Lord,” said the leader of the CLONE troops. “There were armed only with these.” Unhooking the lightsabers from his belt, he went over and handed them to Dooku.  
“Excellent, thank you Commander. Now leave us.” The former Jedi placed the two lightsabers on the table, and went over to where Obi-wan and Anakin waited patiently, their hands bound. He regarded them with amusement or was it disdain? It was hard to tell. Dooku had become adept at wrapping himself in a blanket of obscurity that defied any attempt to discern his real feelings. “I trust you found the remains of your colleagues?”  
Obi-wan did not dignify the Count with a response, whilst Anakin glanced over to where the Chancellor sat. He could see that Palpatine was pale and sweating, his forehead glinting with sweat in the bright light of the room. His eyes were shot through with panic and Anakin wondered what the discussion had been about to cause such a response in the normally calm and placid man.  
“Nothing to say then on the failure to rescue your friends,” sneered Dooku, taking his lightsaber from his belt but not igniting it. “I am surprised you think you will do better freeing the Chancellor.”  
Sharing a glance with his companion next to him, Obi-wan communicated all he needed to in that one moment. Before Dooku could react, Anakin had spun round and called his lightsaber to his hand, freeing Obi-wan from his binders; Obi-wan then called his own weapon to him, using it to free Anakin in turn. It happened so fast that Dooku only just had time to ignite his own lightsaber.  
“Ah but this is more of a fair fight,” said Obi-wan, brandishing his weapon at the former Jedi. “No troops, no blasters. Hand to hand combat, the most civilised kind.”  
“I am surprised you wish to face me,” mused Dooku, eyeing the two Jedi cautiously. “You revealed when we last met that you two so called-heroes are no match for me. Maybe it would be less embarrassing if you were to surrender now?”  
“That was a long time ago,” said Anakin grimly, “it might as well be ancient history. I think you’ll find our strength has grown since then.”  
Dooku only smiled, “I think you’ll find Anakin Skywalker that your confidence is misplaced. You may have been able to defeat my recruits but how will you fare against a real Sith?”  
“Anakin, be careful,” cried the Chancellor, finally coming out of his apparent stupor, “He’s-”  
“Be silent, old man.” Dooku flung out his arm impatiently towards Palpatine and a small burst of energy from the restraints cut him off mid-sentence, shocking him into silence.  
Seeing that Dooku was distracted, Obi-wan’s eyes flicked to Anakin and immediately they charged him, raising their lightsabers high.  
“Good, I need some combat training,” said Dooku lightly, barely raising a sweat as they fought back and forth in front of the Chancellor. “It has been a long time since I have found a worthy opponent. Your friends Stass Allie and Shaak Ti were easy enough to kill, there really has been a lack of quality in recent Jedi training.”  
“You did not have the courage to face them yourself,” replied Anakin recklessly, easily goaded by Dooku’s calculated insults, “those Jedi were killed by blaster fire.” However, he had realised early on that Dooku was afraid of something, sensing a deep unease buried beneath his veneer of civility. It was a revelation that he hoped they could use to their advantage.  
“As cocky as you are reckless,” crowed Dooku, stumbling slightly as Obi-wan caught him off guard from behind, but recovering quickly. “Well, well I am in for a treat.”  
Anakin slashed at the Count, but he over stretched and Dooku almost caught his arm with the bright blade.  
“Eager to lose the other arm are you, Skywalker?” Simultaneously Dooku countered an attack from Obi-wan, “And your moves are clumsy, Obi-wan, too predictable,” he chuckled, blocking his lightsaber, then bringing his own back to smash against the younger Jedi’s blade, “You’ll have to do better. And I’m an old man!”  
Switching their style of attack to devastating effect, Anakin and Obi-wan drove Dooku towards the foot of the stairs, their lightsabers twisting and dancing with light, crackling as they swung through the air. It was unexpected and Dooku found that he had to defend himself. Annoyed, the older man raised his hand and threw Anakin up into the air and against the wall before the young man knew what was happening to him such was the speed of the attack. Crying out in pain as he hit the wall hard, Anakin slumped to the ground whilst the Chancellor looked on with great concern.  
Then Dooku turned on Obi-wan. Raising his hand he made a fist, imagining that it was Kenobi’s neck he was squeezing, his elegant fingernails digging into the palm, the blood draining away from his fingers so tightly he clenched.  
Eyes bulging, Obi-wan clutched his neck as everything started to go grey, needles piercing his eyes. He tried to speak but he could not even breathe. Dropping his lightsaber, he slumped to the ground, unconscious.  
Feeling the pain of his comrade keenly, Anakin shook his head to clear it. Looking up he saw Dooku heading towards him. Summoning all his energy, the young Jedi stumbled to his feet just in time and met Dooku’s lightsaber with his. Their blades locked, they pushed against the other; the young man with the raw, surging energy of the Force that seemed to radiate from every pore in his body, wild and untamed, and the older man with his cold reserve, the power of the dark tamed within his grasping desire for control, righteous and self-disciplined.  
Staring into the young man’s burning eyes, Dooku smiled paternally; “I sense great turbulence in you, young Skywalker. You have the ability to use the two sides of the Force but you are forced to suppress your hatred, your anger. Use them and see your powers grow in ways that other Jedi can not even imagine!”  
“I don’t need them!” said Anakin through clenched teeth, reserving his effort for controlling those emotions, keeping them damped away far down inside him. However, he could feel them creeping upwards, like thin tendrils into his consciousness, trying to take root.  
“Imagine how powerful you could be if you harnessed them,” repeated Dooku, seeing the wrestle for control in the young man’s expression.  
For a moment, Anakin could feel the familiar heat growing in his head. Taking a deep breath, he pushed Dooku away with all his might, breathing deeply to steady himself.  
The Count stumbled, dropping his blade from the offensive. He looked at Anakin with surprise. “I do not understand you, Skywalker, you insist on following a Code you have no belief in-”  
“You know nothing of my beliefs, Count.” Finding a renewed strength, Anakin strode towards him; the Force was on his side, he was certain of it. So intense became the fight that soon everything around the two combatants was forgotten.  
“You are wasted in the Jedi Order!” Dooku, sensing that the tide had somehow turned in Anakin’s favour, tried a new tactic. “The Republic is dying Anakin, destroyed from within by those who pretend to desire peace and justice. The Jedi are crumbling, the Senate is weak-willed and divisive, the Chancellor is mired in its corruption, they will not justify the loyalty you show! Join me and together we will bring this conflict to an end, create a new Order and a new Republic, one fit for great warriors such as you and I.”  
Gathering all his energy, pushing with all his strength, Anakin forced the Count backwards, seeing him stagger. Seizing the chance, he brought his blade round in such a way it crashed down onto the Count’s arms, slicing them both neatly at the elbow, rendering him useless.  
Falling to his knees, Dooku clutched the two bleeding stumps to his chest, the metallic tang already rising to his nostrils amidst the pain, the red staining his robes. He stared at Anakin in bewilderment; what power was his?   
Dooku’s lightsaber had flown into the air, and Anakin caught it deftly. Although made for a Sith it seemed to nestle quite nicely within his left hand.  
“Wait!”  
The twin blades flashed and the Count’s head was rolling on the floor, the frosty blue eyes, once full of great pride, staring empty and lifeless at the young man who had finally brought about his doom.  
Anakin watched impassively as the body collapsed to the ground. At that moment he was convinced that he was invincible. Then the moment passed, an ephemeral whisper on the vast lifespan of the Galaxy. As the cold air entered his nostrils, sweeping away the heat that had consumed him, Anakin realised with a start that he had killed Dooku. Belatedly remembering the objectives of their mission, he knew he had made a terrible mistake.  
“Anakin?” asked the Chancellor shakily, from behind him. “Is Dooku gone?”  
Dropping the Sith’s lightsaber as though it was tainted, Anakin hurried over to where the Chancellor was imprisoned, “Forgive me,” he said as he manipulated the controls to release the binders, “I did not mean to kill him.”  
“There is nothing to forgive,” said the Chancellor kindly, rubbing his wrists together as his hands were freed. “You have rid us of a dangerous foe. It could be enough to turn the tide of war in our favour.”  
Feeling disgusted with himself, Anakin could not share the Chancellor’s optimism, “I should not have done it.”  
“But you did what was right Anakin,” said Palpatine, clearly confused by his less than celebratory mood, “what would be the advantage in allowing him to live?”  
“Dooku claimed that there was a Sith Lord on Coruscant.” Anakin handed Palpatine his walking stick as the Chancellor rose to his feet unsteadily as though he had been trapped in the chair for many days. “He might have provided us with a clue to his whereabouts.”  
“I doubt it very much,” said the Chancellor firmly, “you know better, Anakin, than to trust the word of a traitor.”  
“That may be the case,” replied Anakin tersely, frustrated that he had allowed his anger to subtlety take control of him, despite telling Dooku that he did not need such emotions to succeed as a Jedi. “But what stands is that I killed an unarmed man.”  
Silence hung on the air, pregnant with guilt and mingled with fear of recriminations.  
“Well, only I know that,” said the Chancellor kindly, patting Anakin on the arm, “and it will not go any further, Anakin, I promise. I for one am glad that you dispatched him. I heard him trying to convince you to help him with his plans of domination, he would have only continued in that vein.”  
“You are too kind, your Grace,” said Anakin, concerned that he had admitted to much to the Chancellor about his failings. “Anyway, we better get out of here. It won’t be long until the CLONE find out what has happened here.”  
“I presume you have an escape plan mapped out?” asked the Chancellor.  
“Not especially,” said Anakin, “we usually make it up as we go along.” Suddenly he remembered, “Obi-wan!”  
“Did you dispatch Grievous before you rescued me?” asked Palpatine urgently, limping along after the much taller Jedi as he hurried towards the lifeless body of Obi-wan.  
“No, our priority was to rescue you,” Anakin knelt down beside his companion, looking for signs of life.  
“Oh dear, oh dear,” Palpatine sighed. “Then we are in trouble.”  
“He’s still alive.” Relief flooded through him as he tenderly touched Obi-wan’s forehead, feeling the struggling flickers of life beneath the smooth, damp skin.   
Palpatine watched as Anakin attempted to lift the Jedi Master, shuddering as he imagined the danger they were in. “Is that wise, Anakin? Won’t he slow us down? Surely we should leave him here and send some troops to recover him later?”  
Slipping into old habits and ignoring the Chancellor’s concern, Anakin hoisted the prone body of his friend over his shoulder. “I’m not leaving him here,” he said emphatically to the astonished Chancellor, “his fate will be the same as ours.”

“The Jedi have escaped from Count Dooku, General.”  
General Grievous turned from his contemplation of a complicated looking schematic to the aide who had appeared beside him. “Really? Where are they?”  
“Hallway 328. They have the Chancellor with them.”  
Coughing, Grievous’ eyes narrowed. It was the only indication he was slightly annoyed. “Where is Dooku?”  
“There is no sign of him, General.”   
Surprised, Grievous headed over to study the security cameras. Idiot Dooku! Leave them to me, he had said, I will destroy the two Jedi. All you have to do is remain in the command centre. Now they were running amok inside the ship. “Show me the observation deck.”  
The camera switched over, clearly showing an empty restraint chair and a headless, bleeding corpse lying next to it.  
Grievous was starting to worry. “Show me Hallway 328.”  
The camera switched to show Anakin Skywalker, carrying General Kenobi on his back, destroy several CLONE troops before ushering the Chancellor onwards.  
Grievous inhaled sharply. “Prepare the troops,” he snarled to the aide, “we must not let them get away.”

Obi-wan was having a pleasant dream that he was back to being a small child, being rocked to sleep by his mother when he was suddenly awakened by a less pleasant jolting sensation. It was only then that he realised he was in fact hanging upside down, the floor beneath him moving very fast. “Woah!” He felt his stomach flip.  
“Easy,” cautioned Anakin, as Obi-wan clutched at him in shock. He was not helping by squirming about. “Good to see you’re back with us.”  
“You can put me down now.”   
Anakin complied. “How are you feeling?”  
“Much better now I’m the right way up, thank you,” nodded the older Jedi, the nausea subsiding slightly. “What’s happening? Where are we?”  
“I’ll explain later,” said Anakin briskly, indicating the Chancellor behind them, who nodded at Obi-wan. “All you need to know is that we need to get off this ship.”  
“How are you feeling your Excellency?” Obi-wan bowed politely, struck by how gaunt and tired the Chancellor looked.  
“I am most anxious to get out of here,” replied the Chancellor with no trace of irony.  
“I’d second that,” agreed Anakin, “we’ve got to get going before Grievous tracks us down.”  
“I suggest we find the hangars,” said Obi-wan “and see if there is anything large enough to accommodate us all.”  
Anakin nodded. “Let’s go.”  
However, when it came to trying the doors, the two Jedi found that none would open; they were stuck in their current position. Clearly, Grievous was aware of their movements on the ship.  
“I thought we were more intelligent than this,” said Obi-wan crossly, looking in vain for a control panel to operate the doors.  
“Clearly not,” replied Anakin with a sigh. 'But it's mostly your fault.'  
“Why?”  
“It was your idea to go this way.”  
The Chancellor raised his eyebrow; it was his first experience of Kenobi-Skywalker banter. He had heard all the rumours and stories of course, besides Anakin had told him enough to know he had forged a strong bond with the older Jedi. A friendship forged from a promise made to a dying Master that had developed into something far greater.  
“Well, I’m open to suggestions.”  
“We could try to negotiate with Grievous,” suggested the Chancellor to looks of disbelief from both Jedi, “with Count Dooku dead, he may be more amenable.”  
“That is one possibility, thank you your Excellency.” Obi-wan looked at Anakin in puzzlement; since when has Dooku been dead?  
“I say we should be patient,” said the young man, watching the empty corridor keenly. He was trying to avoid the anxious look from his master, nausea mixing with dread at the thought of having to explain how Dooku had died. He did not think that “my lightsaber slipped” would cut much ice.  
“Patience? That’s your plan is it?” Obi-wan pretended to consider it.  
“The only thing we can do is to get ourselves captured,” said Anakin as though he were explaining it to a small child, “and then take it from there.”  
Considering they were supposed to be keeping the Chancellor out of danger, Obi-wan could see a lot of things wrong with Anakin’s plan. But there was no time to argue as suddenly, the set of doors to the left of them began to slide open emitting a large contingent of CLONE troops into the corridor.  
“If this is plan A, I’d hate to see plan B,” commented Obi-wan, trying not to laugh as he was grabbed and bound.

They were led to what appeared to be the central command centre in the Integrity. There, General Grievous was waiting for them, rubbing his metallic claws in anticipation.  
“So Chancellor Palpatine,” he said with much mirth, looking down his skull like face at the two miserable Jedi either side of him. “Instead of two Jedi they have sent two nerfherders to rescue you.” He accepted the two lightsabers handed over by one of the guards, “Even by your standards General Kenobi that was not much of a rescue.”  
Obi-wan said nothing in reaction to the cyborg’s taunting, instead he looked down his nose at him.  
Disappointed, Grievous turned to a more susceptible target. “And Skywalker, considering your reputation as the Republic’s hero I had expected much more from you.” Grievous narrowed his eyes at the young man, “but then you have never been very good at finishing a job properly have you?”  
“It is shame you have not mastered the art of wit as well as you have mastered the art of running away, General,” replied Anakin boldly.  
“Jedi scum,” grumbled the cyborg, striking him across the face with his own lightsaber hilt.  
As the young Jedi bore the pain nobly, Obi-wan tutted, “You will insist on upsetting people won’t you, Anakin?”  
“And I was trying so hard not to.”  
The General stalked about in front of them, not quite sure what he was going to do with his three illustrious captives. “Your lightsabers will make a fine addition to my collection,” he said finally and parted his cloak, revealing the famed belt of lightsabers hanging around his skeletal hips. He hooked the two new ones with the rest. “Now, let’s think what we can do with you. A private death would be quick and easy but it would be so much better to make an example of you three, hold the Republic to ransom.”  
Obi-wan smiled as Grievous muttered away to himself. He did not need to look at Anakin to know that something was about to happen, he could feel the expectation shimmering in the Force around him. “It would be better just to kill us now, General, I doubt our lives are worth very much.”  
The General laughed, kicking off a spate of agonised coughing, “So humble in defeat, silly Jedi.” He spat the words with an unrivalled hostility. “You are worth much more than you think. But finally your luck is running out, General Kenobi”  
“That’s funny,” replied Obi-wan, sensing that it was almost time, “because the Jedi don’t believe in luck.”  
Part of the ceiling suddenly came crashing down on the row of troops before them.  
“Now!” yelled Anakin, dust flying in clouds around him.  
They had used the same trick on Dooku. Spinning round, Obi-wan reached out with the Force, yanking his lightsaber out of the depths of the General’s cloak. Although his hands were bound, he managed to ignite it and cut his bonds in a single move. Continuing his spin, he cut the restraints that bound Anakin, enabling the young man to coax his own lightsaber towards him.  
They were fast but so was Grievous. He leapt backwards, narrowly missing Anakin’s lightsaber slicing towards him. “Crush them!” he yelled to his bodyguards, motioning them to engage the Jedi whilst he headed deeper into the room, his feet crunching on the demolished ceiling panels. “Make them suffer!”  
Chaos erupted as the droids fired on the Jedi, the Chancellor trying to make himself smaller in an effort to evade his captors. The two Jedi leapt straight into the line of fire to engage the General’s bodyguards. Peculiar hybrids of droid and organic, they fought with electro staffs that spluttered with malicious energy.  
“Begin the procedure,” ordered Grievous, motioning two soldiers to grab the Chancellor and bring him over. But they had reckoned without Anakin. Leaping into the fray, he made it his own personal mission to release the Chancellor, his lightsaber crackling with frenetic energy.  
“General, we’ve lost another of the Destroyers,” yelled one of the assistants, ducking as a stray laser blast almost caught his ear. The Republic fleet were slowly gaining the upper hand.  
“Stay at your positions,” ordered the General, thinking it was time for him to abandon his post as he had been ordered. “Your main priority is to keep the Chancellor from escaping. Kill him if necessary.” He realised then he was talking to a corpse. Grabbing his staff, he ducked as Obi-wan threw his lightsaber towards him. Dodging the deadly boomerang, he sprang towards the Jedi; just as Obi-wan caught the spinning weapon on its return flight. Sparks flew as the cyborg and the Jedi engaged in ferocious combat.  
“Hello Grievous.” Anakin leapt over a nearby console to land behind the General, lightsaber at the ready. He hoped the Chancellor was safe where he had left him, hidden beneath one of the consoles.  
“Have a pleasant fight, boys,” growled Grievous. Aiming his staff at Obi-wan’s head, the Jedi ducked and his staff headed towards the window behind, smashing it into thousands of tiny fragments.  
The two Jedi shielded their faces as the glass sprayed around them and the freezing air whipped gleefully about the room, hurling bodies, guards and Jedi about, anything that was not secured heading irresistibly towards the exterior of the ship as the inhospitable atmosphere of space infiltrated the carefully monitored artificial air of the Integrity.   
“Hang on!” Obi-wan was holding onto one of the consoles, Anakin beside him, trying desperately to counter the strong pull, gasping frantically as all the breathable air was sucked out of the control room.  
General Grievous, waving a fond farewell to both Jedi, sailed out of the window.  
Machines and consoles smashed and popped as the pressure became unbearable and alarms sounded incessantly. But eventually one of the aides, concerned more for self-preservation than following his leader out into the unknown, activated the blast shield that slammed into place across the damaged window.  
Grasping his lightsaber tightly, Obi-wan sighed and launched himself with renewed vigour against their foes. He had a feeling it was going to be one of those days.

“Senator Amidala, you really must get to the shelter.” Threepio’s voice was raised enough to be almost high-pitched with fright. It had been over an hour since the CLONE fleet had finally revealed its purpose and started to bomb the city-planet, destroying its security defences so that it could send troops down to seize the key buildings, including the Senate. Despite the danger, Senator Amidala had refused to do the sensible thing and retreat to the shelter reserved for senior diplomats and Senators, insisting that she could not leave until she was certain that the Jedi and the Army were doing all they could to meet the CLONE threat.  
“Yes please my lady,” the handmaidens added their own insistent cries to that of the droid. “It’s too dangerous to remain here much longer.”  
“Is everyone else evacuated?” asked Padmé, finally moving away from the window and grabbing the small box where she kept all most important things, keepsakes that she could never part with.  
“Yes,” replied Corday hurriedly, grabbing her arm and almost dragging her from the room. “They’re only waiting for you!”  
There was a high pitched whining outside as something passed close to the window and crashed into the building opposite with such force that it rocked the apartment block. Huge clouds of smoke obscured the windows.  
“Let’s go,” agreed the Senator finally, thrusting her arms into her coat as she ran out after the two handmaidens, Threepio trailing along behind them.  
“This way my lady,” said Captain Typho, waiting for her at the top of the stairs. “The elevators are out of action.”  
“A small crisis and everything begins to fall apart,” commented Padmé as she raced down the stairs after him, joining a long queue of senators and other high standing members of Coruscant society as they headed for the emergency bunkers below the apartment block. “I thought these buildings were designed with defence against attacks such as these?”  
His face gloomy in the emergency lighting, Typho smiled grimly. “But this is the first time they have ever been tested, my lady.”  
As they pelted down the stairs, for the first time Padmé wished that the Army was here to defend Coruscant, not halfway over the other side of the Galaxy. “How can they have come so close?” she queried, “I thought the bombardment had stopped?”  
“Information is patchy,” replied Typho, “I am certain the Republic fleet is doing all they can but it has been depleted by the mission to rescue the Chancellor.”  
They had reached the bottom of the stairs by then, heading down the concrete corridor towards the sealed door that led to the bunkers down below. As they headed deeper into the bowels of Coruscant, Padmé shivered. Her adopted home was feeling less and less secure everyday.

Most of the remaining aides and troops had abandoned all idea about protecting the Integrity from the Jedi, the glue that was Grievous had gone and only blind panic and fear gripped them now. It took the Jedi little time to dispatch the rest of the droids and bodyguards but still they heard the rumblings of explosions in the background as the battle cruiser came under attack from the Republic fleet.  
Hurrying over to one of the screens, Anakin saw that the CLONE was still offering some resistance to the Republic fleet but only one of their Destroyers was left. “We have to get out of here before we get pulverised.”  
“Good idea,” said Obi-wan over his shoulder. “Where’s the Chancellor?”  
“I’m here,” replied the Chancellor, coming out from under the console, his robes crumpled and covered in dust. At that moment he looked like a frail, elderly man rather than the most powerful politician in the Galaxy.  
Anakin’s manner softened when he saw the condition he was in. “Are you alright, your Excellency?”  
“I think so,” Palpatine dusted himself down. “However I will gladly hand the heroics over to you two.”  
“Let’s get to the hangar before there are no ships left,” cautioned Obi-wan, lightsaber still at the ready.  
“I won’t argue with that,” added Anakin as he followed Obi-wan and the Chancellor out of the control room.  
By the time they reached the hangar there were only a few remaining ships to choose from; several one-incumbent fighters and a medium-sized warship that had clearly seen better days.  
“Do you think it’s flyable?” asked Obi-wan as they hurried over to the battered hulk.  
“Only just,” said Anakin, activating the controls that lowered the boarding ramp, “but it’ll have to do.” He said this with as much optimism as he could muster, otherwise he felt he might just sit down and cry.  
The Chancellor remained silent as they trooped up the ramp and into the ship. He had said little since they had left the command room, merely content to trusting his safety to the two Jedi.  
Inside the cruiser was little better, great empty corridors encrusted with dirt. Here and there panels were ripped from the walls revealing masses of complex circuitry, possibly plundered.  
“Looks like we found the one they use for spare parts,” muttered Anakin as they entered the cockpit.  
“What did you say?” asked Obi-wan, looking around him in dismay. It was so far from ideal he was thinking about making a new category to express his disappointment.  
Anakin only looked at him, for once there was no clear expression on his face. “Strap yourselves in,” he commanded, sitting himself down in the pilot’s chair. “Faced with a choice this would be the last thing I would ever consider. But since we have no choice…” Turning to the console, his face remained impassive as he noticed that everything was written in some alien script he had not seen before. He told himself it would be fine and decided to trust his instincts. After ensuring they were all safe and secure he activated the sequence that he considered would start the engines. Fortunately he was rewarded with a powerful hum that started deep in the bowels of the ship then increased to a whine, feeling the familiar pull of the restraints as the ship indicated it was indeed ready to venture into the unknown.  
“So far so good,” he smiled, closing his eyes and pressing buttons in sequence.  
Obi-wan watched nervously, “Can we do anything, Anakin?”  
“Not until we take off,” replied the young man, looking round and smiling. “Which should be…” there was a shaking as the ship wobbled into the air and started heading towards the hangar entrance, wide open to the space battle outside, “…now.”  
“We would do well to inform the fleet that we are not an enemy ship.” The Chancellor’s voice came shakily over the rumble of the engines.  
“Good idea, your Excellency.” Obi-wan wondered how in the Galaxy Anakin managed to pilot something that was clearly falling apart and had no clear instructions on how to operate it. “Can you handle that, Anakin?”  
“If I can get a signal,” he muttered as they trundled along the hangar, gathering speed as the walls flashed by.  
By the time they emerged from the hangar and into the deeps of space, the battle was still in full flow. Anakin had managed to send the required message to the Republic commander and so the least of their worries was being drawn into any fighting. It was the ability of the cruiser to make it back to Coruscant that preyed on their minds.  
Red blossoms of laser fire filled the cockpit window as the bulky cruiser attempted to steer its way through the melee.  
“Alright,” said Anakin gruffly as he finished his assessment of the situation. It was taking a large part of his concentration to hold the ship together, mentally willing it to remain in orbit. “It looks like we can make it into hyperspace,” he added more cheerfully, steering the ship to the left to avoid two CLONE fighters that seemed determined on a headlong course, blatting the window with laser rainfall.  
“That’s comforting,” smiled Obi-wan, gripping the stabiliser for all it was worth. Little else about the ship gave him any confidence they would get back to the capital in one piece, but he trusted in Anakin’s superior piloting skills.  
Punching in the co-ordinates, Anakin started to speak when the ship suddenly jolted severely, throwing them about in their seats despite the strapping.  
All three men looked at each other.  
“Uh oh,” said Anakin, glancing at the console. “It seems the ship is less stable than we thought.”  
“I never thought it was stable,” exclaimed Obi-wan, his heart suddenly very loud in his ears. “Are you sure this is going to be safe?”  
“There’s nothing else we can do,” insisted Anakin, making the final calculations for lightspeed. “It’s too dangerous to remain out here and we can’t make it to the Republic cruiser without sustaining considerable damage.” His replica hand hovered over the final lever, “It’s now or never.”  
The Chancellor merely nodded, his face set into an expression of concern.  
“You might as well,” agreed Obi-wan, also resigned to their fate.  
“Here goes,” replied the young man, as confident as he could manage. Pushing the lever forward he held his breath not daring to breath until the familiar streaks of hyperspace dominated their view.

As the battle raged on Coruscant, the Republic fleet was finally turning the tables on the CLONE menace with the return of all available battle cruisers from across the Core territories. In tandem with Master Windu on the ground, they had reduced the airborne fleet to less than half of its original size, inflicting damage after damage on the bulky Destroyers.  
On board the Fearless, a young, relatively inexperienced recruit turned to his superior. “Sir!”  
“Yes, what is it Piett?” asked Captain Kagi, walking smartly over to where the young man was jabbing with a finger to the console.  
“Another ship has just appeared from hyperspace,” explained the young man.  
“Jam its signal,” ordered the Captain immediately, “it must be reinforcements.”  
They watched as the cruiser followed an erratic path through the ships that clustered around it. The pilot only just seemed to have control over the direction in which the ship was headed.  
“It’s coming into range Sir,” said Piett, “a viable target.”  
“Wait a minute.” The cruiser was not following any established flight pattern, not recognisable anyway, but was heading erratically towards Coruscant itself, “Most odd.”  
“It might be a distraction Sir, I really think we should disable it,” maintained Piett.  
“Wait a minute, let’s try and establish contact.” For some reason the Captain thought there was something more than odd. Looking at its spec, the ship was barely space-worthy, a rusting hulk that was about to fall apart any moment. Surely the CLONE would not be crazy enough to think such a ship could break through their defences?

His face tense, Anakin looked at the console in dismay. “It seems the entire back portion of the ship is about to drop off.”  
“What do you mean by drop off?” asked Obi-wan, just managing to keep his voice level. Already they had been dogged by imperfect hyperspace calculations, dodgy engines and malfunctioning navi-computers. Anakin had been kept busy during the hyperspace lull, mending things here and patching them up there. The young Jedi remained optimistic but Obi-wan was beginning to think it was only superficial. For it was not only his life that he held in his hands, it was the lives of the two individuals with him that he was anxious about. Any small break from concentration, any distraction and that would be the end. He had never felt so much pressure since the life of another close to him had hung in the balance, but this time he was determined not to fail.  
“Literally,” replied Anakin, checking the scopes in front of him. “We’re going to have to let it go.”  
“Trust in the will of the Force, Anakin, it will guide you.”  
“I'm sure it will but in the meantime can you try to keep our speed as level as possible?"

Piett pressed the communications channel, “Unmarked ship please identify yourself.”  
“With pleasure,” came the crackling reply, “this is General Skywalker. I have with me Supreme Chancellor Palpatine and General Kenobi. I was about to request safe passage before you jammed our transmission.”  
“Please accept our sincere apologies,” the Captain pushed Piett out of the way so that he could take the mike himself. To think they had contemplated shooting down the heroes of the Republic! “We will send a squadron to escort you to the surface.”  
“Thank you,” came the strident, but obviously harassed voice of the Jedi, “could you also prepare Coruscant for our landing? I’ve just been notified that we have lost half the ship.”  
“Indeed Sir,” turning off the comlink, the Captain barked at Piett. “Notify the Provisional Government and High Command immediately that the mission has succeeded. The Chancellor has been rescued.”

Inside the cockpit of the battered cruiser, now minus its back quarters and its engines, three pairs of eyes were fixed on the rapidly looming vista of Coruscant. They were headed into freefall, everything about them glowing brightly as the remains of the ship thundered through the upper atmosphere. Things were definitely hotting up.  
“General Skywalker, come in.” The radio crackled into life.  
“Can you get that?” asked Anakin, concentrating on keeping the ship on a straight course. Without heat shields the pressure in the cockpit was rising, his hair clinging damply to his forehead.  
“Certainly.” Obi-wan pressed the comlink, “This is General Kenobi.”  
“We’re bringing you in Sir,” replied the voice, coming from the pilot of four fireships that suddenly appeared either side of them. As the fireships fought to control the blaze, foam enveloped the entire ship.  
“Copy that. Anakin, the landing strip's straight ahead.” It was the best feeling, seeing the towers of Coruscant approaching.  
“Hang on,” was all Anakin said, running out of ideas as to how to slow the ship down. “What’s our speed?”  
“Eight plus sixty-forty. No, eight plus sixty-twenty.” Obi-wan peered at the scopes more carefully, “Wait, Eight plus sixty.” They were slowing down, if only slightly.  
“We’re still coming in too fast,” grumbled Anakin, the pressure was getting to him and he did not know how much longer he could hold on.  
Streaking towards the landing platform, the occupants of the burning ship hung on grimly as it shuddered and rattled towards its destination.  
“This is it,” cried Anakin, biting his lip in anticipation, “hold on.”  
The ship fell with a resounding crash onto the platform, knocking into one of the control towers as it skidded drunkenly along, spinning in dizzy circles. Finally, it’s momentum spent, the tattered remains of the cruiser came to a crashing halt, collapsing into pieces. However, they had made it.  
Giddy with relief, Anakin exhaled noisily; he felt like he had been holding his breath since they had been in the upper atmosphere. “Is everyone okay?”  
“Yes.” Despite cracking his neck in the abrupt stop, Obi-wan managed a smile. “Well done, Anakin. That was quite a landing. But not one I wish to repeat in a hurry.”  
“Tell me Anakin, was flying that ship as simple as you made out?” asked the Chancellor as the young Jedi helped him out of the broken ship, “or was it more a case of keeping it together through the sheer force of your will?”  
“A bit of both, your Excellency,” smiled Anakin.


	3. A Hero's Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Obi-wan return to a rapturous welcome on a badly damaged Coruscant, where life is just returning to normal after the CLONE's bombardment. After a long-winded ceremony to celebrate their exploits, Anakin finds out some surprising news from Padme - she is pregnant.

The small shuttle wove its way through the city. Devastated by the CLONE’s bombardment, most of the buildings to this side of the Senate were smoking hulks, huge craters indicating where countless bombs had been dropped. But, with the return of the Chancellor, the assault on the city had resulted in victory for the Republic, the last vestiges of the CLONE troops arrested and taken for questioning. With safety returned, Coruscant’s citizens were returning to the streets; visiting the remains of the CLONE cruiser that had returned their Chancellor to them safely, inspecting the damage to their homes and shops, many stricken with the loss of their homes, at the loss of life. And although many were trying to continue life as normal, everywhere there was a palpable sense of hopelessness.  
Oblivious yet to this mood sweeping the city, Anakin and Obi-wan were trying to relax after the exhilarating events of the day, telling Master Windu between them the story of the Chancellor’s rescue. He had come to meet them on the landing platform after the last of the CLONE army had been mopped up, seeing the remains of the cruiser falling out the sky from the Jedi Temple and amazed that they were not all burnt to a crisp. It was another testament to the skill and dexterity of the Chosen One.  
Landing next to the senate, the shuttle’s hatch opened and Anakin, Obi-wan and Master Windu climbed wearily out, followed by the Chancellor. Coming towards them was an excited and colourful crowd of senators, led by Admiral Organa, eager to see the heroes that had saved the day, amazed by the news that the Chancellor had survived his ordeal intact.  
As Anakin and Master Windu made to follow the Chancellor, the young Jedi noticed that Obi-wan hung back by the shuttle; he looked like he had aged about ten years since the last time they had been in the capital.  
“What's the matter?"  
Obi-wan sighed, “I’m not in the mood for all this fuss.”  
“It won't take long," said Anakin, optimistic as always, "besides they cannot pin your medal to an empty space." They had both found out earlier they were to be rewarded the highest honour in the Republic for their success in rescuing the Chancellor. For Anakin this meant bending the rules so that he could be awarded the honour a second time.  
“I suppose not," said the Jedi, too exhausted to argue, "come on then, let's get this over with. But if it goes on all afternoon and all night I'll be blaming you."  
They caught up with the rest of the group as a delegation of Senators and Army personnel were talking with the Chancellor.  
"What an ordeal you must have experienced,” Admiral Organa was saying, resplendent in his robes of blue and gold that caught the glittering rays of the rich afternoon sunlight. "The treachery of the CLONE knows no bounds.”  
“I only survived because of the bravery of the two Jedi Knights sent to rescue me. They were forced to dispatch Count Dooku but despite their best attempts, General Grievous was able to elude us once again.” Although he looked tired and ill after his experiences, the Chancellor sounded invigorated now he was back on familiar ground.  
Beside him, Master Windu nodded. “It is to be expected. General Grievous has become so used to running and hiding he has forgotten how to fight.”  
“We must step up all our attempts to find him,” replied the Chancellor, starting to walk towards the Senate entrance, "with Count Dooku finally eliminated, only the General will lead us to the whereabouts of the CLONE leaders, who have done well to evade us throughout this war.”  
Mace looked at Admiral Organa momentarily, sensing some criticism inherent in the Chancellor’s remark. “Then the Jedi Council will also make finding Grievous our highest priority.”  
“Very good,” replied the Chancellor but there was a strange look in his eyes that Mace did not find pleasant.  
As they entered the Senate building, Bail excused himself from the Chancellor’s presence and made a beeline for Anakin and Obi-wan. He had a fondness for the two men, as together they were so unlike the stereotypical image of the solemn and dour Jedi. Between them they had a great deal of personal charisma and the ability to not take matters too seriously, until it really counted of course. They were loyal and true to the Republic as well as each other. And in particular there was a spark about Anakin that infected everyone close to him, he seemed to carry with him the greatness of life. All the possibilities created by the wonder that was the Force made flesh.  
“General Kenobi and Skywalker," he greeted them warmly, "I cannot praise you enough for your dedication to this war and the Republic. This is yet another victory to add to your long list!"  
"Oh I think the honour should all go to Anakin," said Obi-wan modestly, "he did most of the hard work, I was merely there to offer support and encouragement."  
“Don't believe him for a moment," said Anakin in his familiar way, "I would not be where I am today without your training and belief in me, Master."  
Slightly embarrassed as well as pleased by Anakin's admission, Obi-wan returned to the subject at hand. “The abduction of the Chancellor was certainly a bold move by the CLONE but fortunately we were able to take advantage of their overconfidence, certainly helped by the abundance of resources at our disposal.”  
Organa grimaced: the cost of those resources had almost bankrupted the Republic but he knew that this was not a matter to dwell on whilst they were celebrating the Jedi's success. “You two have been remarkably busy lately,” he said, seeing the evidence of injuries all too clearly, particularly on Anakin who had received many cuts, bruises and burns at the hands of Dooku and Grievous.  
“I think we would both appreciate a break,” agreed Anakin, sensing another familiar presence amongst the general hubbub that filled his heart with anticipation, “but the sooner we find Grievous and the CLONE leaders the better."  
“It is a shame that Dooku could not be captured,” commented the Admiral. “His person would have made a useful bargaining tool with the CLONE or as a means of finding out more information regarding their purpose.”  
"It depends," said Obi-wan, who had yet to find out from Anakin exactly what had happened to Dooku, "he is capable, or rather was capable of telling lies and spreading mis-information."  
Anakin’s eyes narrowed, “It would have been impossible to trust the word of a Sith.”  
“Maybe he would not have been such use to us after all then," reflected the Admiral, "however it is imperative that we capture the CLONE leaders, since they are the real masterminds behind this war."  
Glancing at Obi-wan, Anakin smiled grimly, “General Kenobi and I will certainly not rest until General Grievous is nothing but spare parts.”  
“Just don’t forget we will be waiting to heap you with honours when you do so.”  
Then he saw her. For a moment their eyes locked together and he could see the evidence of her love for him shining in their depths. But it was only a moment and she quickly turned her attention to his two companions.  
“Greetings Senator Organa, Generals Kenobi and Skywalker,” said Senator Amidala politely, kissing each man on the cheek in welcome. “I have just been hearing about your exploits,” she addressed the two Jedi, “I still can’t quite believe that you brought the Chancellor back safely and in only half a ship!”  
Before Obi-wan could launch into one of his it was all because of Anakin routines, the young man said quickly, “It was definitely a close call this time, but we were happy to be able to help.”  
“It is all over the Holonet,” she went on brightly, “they have been showing the clip of your crash landing almost every hour. It has become the most watched clip on the paid-for channels.”  
“How exciting,” said Obi-wan wearily, already tired of small talk and wondering how he was going to get through the evening intact, “we will be celebrities.”  
Remembering the interest that such exploits brought, Anakin knew that he was going to have to be extra careful whilst he was back on Coruscant not to attract any unwanted attention, “It is good to see you looking so well, Senator, Master Windu was telling us about the CLONE’s attack on the city, it must have been terrifying.”  
“Yes it was,” replied Padmé, suddenly serious, “it was the first time that we on Coruscant have experienced the real danger of the war. We think it will have a sobering effect on the Senate, or at least we hope it will.” She looked to Bail Organa for confirmation and he returned her glance with a brief nod. “At the least it has impressed upon those who were reluctant to sue for peace the importance of re-opening our negotiations with the CLONE leaders. Now that Dooku and his Separatists are out of the way we may stand a better chance of bringing the war to an end.”  
“Hear, hear,” said Obi-wan, “now I am sorry to interrupt your beautiful and impassioned speech, Senator Amidala, but I think we are being asked to go inside.”  
Padmé reddened slightly, realising that she was monopolising the conversation, “Of course, General Kenobi, we would not want you to miss the ceremony in your honour.”  
As they walked into the Senate, Obi-wan whispered conspiratorially, “To tell the truth, Senator, I would be most happy to forego the ceremony and retire to my chamber but I am going through it for Anakin’s sake, he needs the confidence boost.”  
“I heard that,” said Anakin in mock-outrage as Padmé, unable to help herself, burst into peals of laughter, “Ignore him my lady, you know how much he hates all the fuss which seems to go with these events.”  
“I promise we will not keep you too long,” said the Admiral, following the exchange with a smile, “but there are many senators who have expressed a wish to meet the heroes who rescued the Chancellor and we would not want to disappoint them. We have arranged a meet and greet afterwards if you can bear to attend?”  
“I think I can handle a few Senators on my own,” said Anakin smoothly, not daring to look at Padmé, “if you’d rather return to the Temple after the ceremony, Obi-wan?”  
“Thank you, Anakin.” Relieved that he would only have to sit through some of the proceedings, Obi-wan readily agreed but he made it quite clear that he expected Anakin to be back at the Temple at a reasonable hour, “for he needs his beauty sleep,” he explained to the delighted Senator.  
The two Jedi were ushered to their seats by uniformed aides, leaving the Senators to take their places on the opposite side of the auditorium. Sat close to the stage at the front of the hall, Anakin looked around with interest at the packed seats behind them. “Look at all these people, here to see us.”  
Obi-wan sighed, wishing he could get the ceremony over and done with, feeling nervous in front of so many of the great and good of Coruscant. It was as though the Chancellor had heard him for in a few minutes he appeared on the stage, followed by Admiral Organa and members of the High Command and the Executive; slowly the audience hum and chatter diminished as they realised that the Chancellor had returned safely to the capital. There was a spontaneous round of applause which echoed around the hall and it was a while before the Chancellor was able to speak. He thanked the audience for coming and introduced the inhabitants of the stage alongside him. He then paid a heartfelt tribute to the two Jedi who had rescued him from the clutches of Count Dooku and General Grievous, extolling their virtues of heroism and loyalty, of courage and commitment to duty. He ended his lengthy speech by asking Generals Kenobi and Skywalker to come up to the stage to receive their awards, “a very small token of the Republic’s appreciation of their efforts.” Again the applause reverberated around the hall as Obi-wan and Anakin got up from their seats and walked up the winding ramp which led to the stage where they halted in front of the Chancellor and Admiral Organa. First, the Admiral pinned the glittering medal to Obi-wan’s tunic, before he shook hands with the Chancellor and the assembled dignitaries. Then it was Anakin’s turn, his medal pinned next to his earlier award, the young man unable to stop smiling as he basked in the glow of the audience’s reaction. Having followed the line of dignitaries in Obi-wan’s wake, the two Jedi were ushered back to the front of the stage to face the audience and receive a salute from the Republic troops stationed at the back of the hall.  
'My face is aching from all this smiling' said Obi-wan’s voice in Anakin’s mind, 'how do you manage to look so natural?'  
'Practice,' sent Anakin in return, 'when you’ve been to as many meet and greets as I have it becomes second nature.'  
Obi-wan raised his eyebrow, he knew that it must be a show on Anakin’s part. They had barely had any rest since returning to Coruscant and although he supposed that his joints ached because he was getting old, the very physical young Jedi beside him was also prone to punishing his body in the pursuit of the war and must be suffering as much as he was.  
Finally, the audience settled down and Anakin and Obi-wan were able to leave the stage and make their way out of the hall, leading the procession of dignitaries. In the corridor, Obi-wan took his leave of Anakin, feeling only slightly guilty that he was abandoning him to the evening’s festivities. “Are you sure you don’t mind tackling these Senators on your own?”  
“Of course not, Master,” laughed Anakin, “I know how much you despise that kind of thing. Besides, I owe you for having to put up with me, it is the least I can do.”  
Obi-wan had to smile at his admission, “Anakin, I know we have not always had the easiest of relationships but you have never been a burden to me, and you never will be. You have always impressed me with your dedication and commitment to the Jedi cause; all I have done is teach you the rudimentary procedures of the Jedi training, your strength in the Force has helped you to succeed far more than ever I, or Qui-Gon, could have anticipated. I know if he could see you today he would be very proud, as proud as I am.”  
The heartfelt admission and mention of Qui-Gon bought a pang to Anakin’s heart which removed his usual veneer of cockiness. “But I would not be here today without your training, everything I am I owe to you-”  
“Oh shut up Anakin,” said Obi-wan in exasperation, “you cannot even agree with me when I’m being nice to you! Anyway, I am going before I get sucked into any more conversations with Senators.” He could see a group of them emerging from the hallway and so he patted Anakin on the back, “have fun tonight Anakin, although not too much fun of course. I expect I’ll see you tomorrow for combat practice?”  
“Of course, Master, bright and early.”  
“Not too early, please Anakin.”  
Anakin watched Obi-wan as he left the Concert Hall with mixed feelings; he would have liked some company but he knew that in terms of temperament, he was much better suited to the task at hand than his mentor. Obi-wan would have only moaned about having to keep up small talk all evening until it drove Anakin mad. However, he also would have liked to have returned to the Temple to rest his weary limbs.  
“General Skywalker?”  
A sweet voice interrupted his thoughts and he turned to see Senator Amidala standing next to him, looking at him curiously.  
“Lost in your thoughts?” she asked gently, seeing how exhausted he looked beneath the air of cheerfulness.  
“I’m jealous of Obi-wan being able to leave,” admitted Anakin, finally relaxing now he did not have to put on a front, “the ceremony was more tiring than I thought it would be.”  
“You poor thing,” said Padmé soothingly, “well, if it’s any help I offered to escort you to the meet and greet at the Senate. Perhaps we should take a walk and get some fresh air, rather than taking a transport?”  
Anakin thought it was a good idea and after Padmé had gone to inform the Admiral of their decision, they left the Concert Hall to start the relatively short walk to the Senate building across the square and along the boulevard. Behind them, Captain Typho and the two handmaidens in attendance on the Senator followed at a respectful distance.  
Feeling the fresh air on his face, even if the polluted air of central Coruscant, Anakin immediately felt better: he had not realised how stuffy and hot it had been within the concert hall. He also knew it was due to the presence of the young Senator beside him. They walked along, reflecting sadly on the extent of the damage which had been wrought to one of the most attractive areas of the city. It was one of the areas that had suffered the most heavy bombardment during the recent assault by the CLONE.  
“I missed you so much whilst you were away,” said Padmé, wanting to take his hand but worried that it would be too risky and contenting herself with merely being in his presence. “There’s been so many rumours flying around that I feared the worst.”  
“What rumours were these?”  
“That you’d been killed, or worse tortured by Dooku until you agreed to betray the Republic.”  
“Who starts these rumours?” smiled the young man, thinking how ridiculous they sounded. But seeing the serious look in Padmé’s eyes he relented a little, “I imagine it’s hard for you, being here, only having secondhand information as to what is happening outside Coruscant.”  
“Thank you,” cried the young woman, glad he was finally beginning to understand her situation, “it is all well and good hearing about your daring exploits but it only serves to remind me of the danger you are in on a daily basis. I’d much rather you were on Coruscant where I can keep an eye on you.”  
With a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, Anakin said, “There are other benefits of course,” and tried to kiss her.  
However, she turned her head away. “No, not here.”  
“Yes here.” He tried to take her hand, their months of separation all but pushing the passionate young man to breaking point. "Your companions already know about us, who else is going to see?"  
“Anakin we have to be careful,” she pressed, batting his hand away, “there are very few people I trust to keep our secret and most of them are here.”  
“I don’t care,” he said recklessly, but seeing that she was in no mood, he respected her decision and thrust his hands into the sleeves of his Jedi cape. "It has been months since we've seen each other."  
Padmé sighed, "I know and so much has happened since then."  
As the Senate loomed in the distance, he felt a discordant murmur beneath the surface of her feelings. “What is it?"  
Knowing it was futile to hide anything from a perceptive Jedi, Padmé took a deep breath. "There's something I need to tell you but I'm not sure now is the right time."  
Sending the tension in her voice, Anakin was in a quandary. If she didn't tell him he would be anxious all evening, worrying about what it was. But if she did tell him he could be worrying about that all evening instead. He decided to ask for the lesser of two evils, "Please tell me, I'll only be worrying about you all night and you might feel better getting it out."  
After a moment's pause, Padmé decided to face her fears. “I think I’m pregnant.”  
Simple words… but what did they mean? His mind racing, he couldn’t speak for a moment as every possible feeling sailed past and he was unable to grab one that made sense.  
Padmé watched him anxiously, not daring to say anything whilst he worked it out in his mind.  
“Pregnant? How did that happen?" Anakin's knowledge of biology was somewhat limited, especially since the Jedi attributed all life to the wonder of the Force.  
“I don’t know, to tell the truth,” said Padmé, embarrassed. They had been so careful to prevent such accidents happening and she was not entirely sure how it had.  
"We're going to have a baby?" As he began to get used to the idea – the last thing he might ever have expected – he smiled broadly, "Wow that's um wonderful news."  
“You're okay?" she asked tentatively.  
"I think so," he said honestly, "it's not going to be easy but... Wow, that was the last thing I was expecting,"  
"Believe me it was the last thing I was expecting," agreed Padmé ruefully, knowing that it could potentially exact a greater toll on her role as a Senator depending on how they chose to remedy the situation.  
Underneath their joy lurked the question of how in the Galaxy were they going to keep their relationship a secret now. However, the more Anakin got used to the idea over the evening, the happier he felt. A whole new life seemed to be opening up for them… she’s having my child, our child. Our baby. They would be a family. A proper family, one made of love. A love that would more than replace the love he had lost, had always been seeking.

The small shuttle streaked towards the enigmatic planet of Utapau, located in an isolated system of the Outer Rim. Here the surface was barren but its inhabitants did not live on the surface. Rather, they lived in a series of sinkholes that reached far down into the rocks that underlay the surface served by underground rivers that collected in deep pools at the lowest levels. Into one sinkhole the shuttle began to descend; below it were arranged several levels of platforms that gave entrance to the settlements of the planet’s inhabitants.  
Hovering for a moment beside one of the uppermost platforms built into the rock walls, the shuttle entered a hangar carved out of the rock. As it landed a small group of figures emerged from the depths of the hangar, hurrying to meet whoever had landed. As the ramp lowered, one inhabitant of the shuttle was in no mood for greetings. General Grievous stomped out, ignoring the group now clustered around his ship, and headed straight into the hangar and through a set of automatic doors until he reached the inner control tower. There a hologram was waiting for him. “You have finally returned Grievous.”  
“Yes, my lord.” Grievous bowed apologetically, “We took the long route to avoid Republic spies.”  
“What news do you have for me?”  
“Only bad news,” said the General, keeping his eyes on the floor. There was something about the atmosphere around the hologram that made him feel anxious. “Chancellor Palpatine has been returned to Coruscant and Count Dooku was horribly murdered by the Jedi sent to rescue him.”  
“Count Dooku’s death is unfortunate,” said the figure ponderously, “but it is of little consequence. Even with the Chancellor returned we can retain our control of the Senate. Soon the Republic itself will be within our grasp.”  
“How so, my Lord?” asked the cyborg, trembling despite himself in the baleful presence of the cloaked figure. “The Republic are making more and more gains, we have lost the Corellian system and the shipyards, our forces are dwindling by the day…”  
“Patience, General,” said the hologram calmly, “I have already found a replacement for Count Dooku, a young man with far more powers and ability. Once he is my servant, he will help us to turn the tide of the war against the Republic and, with my help, the CLONE will be able to take control of the Galaxy.”  
“This is very good news, Lord Sidious,” bowed and scraped the General.  
“I am putting you in charge of the CLONE, General,” the hologram continued, “in particular, you will need to ensure the safety of the remaining CLONE leaders, the Republic are stepping up their attempts to search for them.”  
“I will be sure to protect them, my Lord.” Grievous knew that with Count Dooku gone all the efforts of the Republic would be focused on bringing him and the remaining CLONE leaders to heel. “What would you have us do?”  
“Remain on Utapau until I give you further instructions. I will ensure the intelligence of the Republic remains blind to your location.”


	4. Crisis on Coruscant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scandal! In the absence of the Chancellor, financial irregularities are found in the Provisional Government's administration, which leads to Bail Organa stepping down from his leadership of the Republic Army. The Executive, under Chancellor Palpatine, uses the scandal as an excuse to take greater control, which the Senate is only too willing to grant him. This includes the direct interference of the Chancellor in the affairs of the Jedi Order, a situation which the Council are unwilling to countenance. Anakin finds that his loyalties to the Jedi, and to the Chancellor, are increasingly torn.
> 
> Things are not right with Padme either, worried about hiding her pregnancy and her growing concerns about the power of the Chancellor, which has turned out not to be a temporary measure after all. What used to be a haven of calm and peace for Anakin - his relationship with Padme - becomes tainted by secrets and difficulties, especially when he starts having dreams about Padme dying.

Since the rescue of the Chancellor and the return to normality on Coruscant with the end of the CLONE bombardment, the pressure on finding General Grievous and the CLONE leaders was stepped up. Intelligence suggested that the CLONE had retreated to the Outer Rim, although the exact location remained elusive. The Jedi Order also renewed its involvement in the war, despite the rumblings from those opposed to it, and it was not long before Anakin and Obi-wan were back in the thick of campaigning. With their technologically advanced fleet and use of droids alongside regular troops, the CLONE remained a force to be reckoned with but slowly and surely the Republic army was gaining the upper hand and campaigns became less protracted and intense, which was a relief to the hard-pressed Jedi.  
At that time, the two Generals had returned to Coruscant from the Outer Rim after a fruitless search for Grievous, ostensibly for rest and recuperation but also to catch up on the latest intelligence. With the fears of leaks in the High Command, it had seemed more prudent to recall the Jedi back to Coruscant rather than risk the information falling into enemy hands. For Obi-wan and Anakin, this also suggested that what they had found was of strategic importance.  
It also gave Anakin the opportunity to visit Padmé; now that she was pregnant he felt increasingly protective towards her and worried about her constantly when he was away, not helped by his continuing visions of her in danger. They had talked at length about the potential pressures it would cause them, and despite his optimism Anakin knew that he could not go on hiding their relationship forever. At the very least, he knew he had to tell Obi-wan. However, he agonised over when and how. It was not exactly the kind of news he could slip into general conversation and for the time being he said nothing, Padmé managing to hide her fortunately tiny bump under her bulky Senatorial clothes.

One evening, Anakin was on his way through the gaudily-lit streets to the Senator’s apartment when his comlink began bleeping incessantly. Now what could they want? It had only been this afternoon that he had met with the Jedi Council to discuss the recent intelligence on Grievous. Stepping into the sheltered alcove of a doorway, he pressed the communicator, “This is wounded warrior.”  
“Anakin.” The voice of Obi-wan filtered through the tiny speaker, “Where are you? You’re not in the Temple.”  
“I went for a walk to get some fresh air,” he replied, technically only a half lie since he was indeed walking.  
“Sorry Anakin to interrupt your exercise but something’s come up and the Council has called an emergency session. I need you to be there.”

Events were coming thick and fast and he could barely keep up. The atmosphere in the Council Chamber had never been so tense or so stifling, the expressions of the Jedi never so fraught as that night. Gathering darkness hung palpably amongst them, despite the myriad of lights illuminating the city outside the huge swathes of glass no light penetrated here, gloom dulling the bright furnishings and obscuring the polished wood of the floor. It affected them all, the hushed tones, the suppressed anxiety which shimmered about them; they dealt only in metaphors and allegories until Anakin’s head swam with the complexities of the debate, glancing nervously at Obi-wan to see his Master’s face was as though set in stone. The basic details as Anakin could ascertain were this: during the absence of the Chancellor, huge financial irregularities had been found in the conduct of the Provisional Government which had been headed by Admiral Organa and the Loyalist Senators. Conveniently, the original financial documents which Organa remembered having signed off had gone missing but so had the resources which he had allocated, siphoned off by some unknown hand. The implication was that the Provisional Government had been using the Chancellor’s absence to feather their own nests and several angry scenes in the Senate had convinced Organa that he must take responsibility for the debacle and resign his post. Not only did he step down as Admiral but he was ready and willing to relinquish his role as Senator, only that the people of Alderaan refused to nominate another Senator in his stead, such was their love and respect for him. The outcome was that the Executive was asserting its claim to even greater powers to ensure that such a scandal could not happen again. A subdued Senate readily agreed to grant those changes.  
It was the nature of the changes agreed to the Senate that concerned the Jedi. From their connection to the Provisional Government, the Jedi could not escape the taint of scandal and the Chancellor had proposed that from now on, the Jedi Order would be responsible to his Office along with the Army High Command and Intelligence. He cited necessary cuts in the bureaucracy and management of the various organs of the Republic as the reason for the changes, which seemed reasonable enough, but those who doubted his motives only saw more evidence of his grasping need for power. However, the Jedi Council could not agree how best to proceed. To confront the Chancellor would mean to undermine the Senate and the Executive, and the Evangelicals present considered it was not the Order’s place to dictate politics. Instead, there was stalemate but the underlying message was loud and clear. Trust – in the Republic, in the Chancellor, and even in the war - was evaporating amongst the Jedi.  
Meeting over, already the dawn’s faint light tinting the horizon into soft hues, the members of the Jedi Council filed out in silence, leaving Obi-wan behind to tidy the paraphernalia of their discussion away. Disturbed by the contents of the meeting, Anakin lingered to help him, although this was clearly not to Obi-wan’s liking.  
“Get to bed, Anakin,” he said, grumpily, “I can deal with this.”  
“I’m not tired,” replied the young man, wanting to talk about events with his friend but seeing that Obi-wan was not in the mood.  
“Then have a hot bath,” suggested Obi-wan, starting to pack away the holo-projector, “believe me, you’ll feel better for it.”  
“Can’t we talk about what’s happened?”  
Obi-wan sighed, he knew that Anakin wanted answers but there were none. “Nothing makes sense, I don’t know if talking about it will help.”  
“But you must know more of the details being on the Council,” pressed Anakin.  
“Okay, okay,” Obi-wan leaned against the table, “I do know a bit more about why Senator Organa stepped down as Admiral. It wasn’t only the financial scandal, he feels it is his fault that the war is dragging on.”   
“That’s ridiculous,” said Anakin bluntly, “he takes too much on himself.”  
“Well, that is the kind of man he is.” Obi-wan looked at him sternly, “We do not yet know who the Chancellor will replace him with, the rumour is that Tarkin will be his successor. Master Windu and Ki ali Mundi will suggest that the Jedi Council can take on a greater role to the Chancellor so that we can at least keep some balance of power.”  
“That will not be acceptable to the Evangelicals, surely?”  
“No, but there are enough Jedi willing to take a part in this war that it does not matter if the Council is split on this matter.” Saying that, he knew that the tension in the Council was becoming more and more obvious which worried him.  
“Senator Organa will be a great loss to the war but it is good that the Order will play a greater role,” began Anakin optimistically.  
“But,” cut in Obi-wan, “it will be made difficult if it is under the direction of a man whose appointment to the High Command will be dubious to say the least.”  
“Tarkin might make a good leader,” suggested Anakin, who had his own concerns about the cold, stern manner of the bureaucrat. “He managed to quell the disputes in the Senate over the implementation of regional governors and he has been very effective in reducing the corruption in the Senate-”  
“Heavy-handed you might say,” snapped Obi-wan, the drama of the last days wearing his serenity thin.   
“But it worked.”  
“Yes, you two should get on well,” muttered the Jedi caustically as he straightened up, “you both believe in the mantra of by any means necessary.”  
“And what is that supposed to mean?” demanded Anakin, getting close to losing his temper. Obi-wan was holding something back from him, he knew it.  
“Remember your own suspicions about the diplomats around the Chancellor,” said Obi-wan wearily, not wishing to create discord between him and his friend. “You told me yourself that you did not trust them an inch. Well, it seems rather suspicious that these very administrators and bureaucrats are rumoured to be in line for top positions in the Republic. Do you not think so?”  
“It had crossed my mind,” admitted Anakin, “but it doesn’t help that the Council has no clear resolution to the situation either. We need to be firm in our decisions as an Order if we are to maintain our position against the Senate and the Executive; our power has been eroded enough by the actions of the Evangelicals.”  
The young man had a point, although Obi-wan would not have put it so forcefully as he had. “I fear you are right, Anakin, but hopefully this meeting between the Chancellor and the Council will strike the right note.”

Whilst the High Command remained without a leader and the role of the Jedi Order was under review, Obi-wan and Anakin remained on Coruscant. Keeping his body active with combat training and his mind active with processing the changes that were taking place on Coruscant, Anakin barely had time to rest. His serenity was not helped by the increasing concern of Padmé over her pregnancy. Made anxious by the complacency of the Senate and the embarrassment of being implicated in the scandal of the Provisional Government, Padmé had become increasingly strident in her complaints against the governance of the Republic. Anakin, trying desperately to be optimistic, found it hard to accept her mood, and found himself getting irritated by the most simple of things whilst she found it hard to accept that he never seemed to worry about anything at all, unaware of the continual, crippling anxiety hidden beneath his confident exterior.  
“Anakin we need to talk,” she said one evening when he had come to see her, “about this pregnancy. I know nothing is obvious now but what happens when I start to show?”  
“We’ll worry about it when it happens,” he sighed, stroking her hair, “can’t we just relax and enjoy being together?”  
“You’re right.” Padmé leaned against him, her disquiet leaving her momentarily. She knew it would not hurt to try and believe that everything would be fine for a little while longer.  
“I’m glad I didn’t know you were pregnant until now,” said Anakin softly, despite his words unable to stop thinking about their baby, “I don’t think I would have been able to concentrate on fighting the war.”  
“It makes it more important that you come back alive,” she said, “I don’t know what I would do without you.”  
“You know I’ll always come back to you, Padmé.”  
Patting his chest with her hand, she said, “I decided that I am much better off being in the dark rather than knowing how much danger you are in.”  
Ironically, she was right; for it would only hurt her to know the exact circumstances in which he had made his name as a warrior. It would only hurt her to know about the darkness that gripped him with its malevolent sting, to be aware of the dread that rose like bile in his throat when he recalled the events that had led him to this stage in his life. Triumph that was steeped in blood; victory paid for in despair. Yet her ignorance was more than he could hope for. It meant the horror that lurked deep inside him could remain safely hidden. Neither she nor he would have to face it. Not ever. “Those people in the Senate, the citizens out there they think fighting a war is hard,” he began, “but that’s easy compared to being without you. When I heard that they call me the “hero without fear” I laughed because I know it’s not true.” His thoughts grew murkier as he recalled the reality of his visions of the future and he gripped her tightly. “I don’t fear anything except losing you.”  
“Oh Anakin, you won’t lose me.”  
They held each other close for a long time.  
“I think I shall return to Naboo to have our baby,” Padmé finally said, seeing that he was amenable to discussion as long as it was positive. “It’s a much more peaceful climate than Coruscant and by the time the baby’s due, the gardens should be at their best, all the flowers will be in bloom.”  
He smiled, his eyes filled with love, proud that she was to be mother of his child. He could hardly believe that he could be so fortunate, so blessed. Although he had never before taken an interest in gardens, or babies for that matter, now they seemed the most interesting things in the whole Galaxy.  
“And I want you to be there with me,” she continued, trying to gauge his reaction, “It’s a while yet but I… I’ve decided I’m going go there early and… and retire from the Senate.”  
“You are?” Suddenly he was plunged back into the reality of what she was saying. “But Padmé, it’s your life.”  
“No,” said Padmé firmly, “you are my life now Anakin, this baby is my life. Nothing else matters.”  
“Still, it’s a big decision to make,” he said, wondering what it would mean for her, for them both, “are you sure it’s the right one?”  
“My hearts not in it so much anymore.” Padmé had already made her up mind to retire. Although she knew she was deserting the cause she had fought for her whole life, it was time to give way to fresh talent. New perspectives were needed to take the Republic into a new era and she felt she could not contribute. However, in many ways the choice had already been made; as an unmarried woman, she knew that once her pregnancy was public knowledge she would have no choice but to relinquish her status as Senator. Naboo culture was very strict, almost stifling, about such things.  
“That’s to be expected,” argued Anakin, “so much has happened recently and you’ve a lot to think about. But the Republic needs loyal Senators such as you to uphold its values.”  
“I’ll consider it.” Exhausted from the strain of the past months, Padmé knew it was not the best time to be making plans about the future and Anakin was too fired up to think of anything else. Sighing, she picked up her wrap from where it lay across the handrail. “I’m tired. I expect you are too?”  
“I am,” agreed Anakin, taking her hand, “it’s been a stressful few days.”  
He followed her to the bedroom, wondering how she always looked so beautiful, especially in the plainest of garments. The simple fabric only highlighted the creamy skin and loveliness of her face. Despite all the years he had known her he was still as besotted with her as the first moment he had met her.  
Climbing into bed, Padmé saw the look on his face. “What are you thinking about?”  
“You.” Seeing her blush he kissed her, “I don’t think you realise just how beautiful you are.”  
“You should enjoy it while it lasts,” said Padmé, making herself comfortable, “it can’t be much longer before I go all wrinkly.”  
“Don’t forget that I will be wrinkly too,” grinned Anakin, putting his arms around her, “You will be beautiful to me however old you are.”

Padmé was screaming, screaming with pain, her face contorted like he had never seen it before… “Anakin!” she was crying, tears falling endlessly from her clouded eyes, “Anakin! Help me!” Something else was screaming, a thin, high pitched wail, “Help me! HELP ME!”…

His eyes crashed open; still tangled in the bed sheets Anakin thrashed about, trying to get the terrifying vision out of his head but he couldn’t forgot the horror on her face. Hot tears filled his eyes as the images continued to flash through his head; unable to bear them, he sat up, shaking his head in frustration but still they remained, taunting him with their dark secrets. For a moment he remained on the edge of the bed, letting the tears fall freely, the terror subsiding as he controlled his exerted breathing. Looking over to the other side of the bed, he saw Padmé was still asleep; he wanted to hold her but he couldn’t get her screams out of his head. Feeling sick to his stomach and unable to face going back to sleep in case the visions returned, he grabbed his robe and headed out of the door.  
Stretching out in her sleep, Padmé came to slowly. Opening her eyes, she saw that she was alone; immediately she knew something was wrong.  
“Anakin?”   
Hearing no reply, she willed herself out of the comfortable bed, and set off to look for him. It was not long before she found him; there were not many places to go even in her spacious apartment. He was out on the veranda, leaning against the balcony, the thin material of his sleeping garments stirring in the breeze.  
Tripping out into the cold night air, Padmé shivered as she came over to him. “Anakin?” She took his hand but he seemed not to hear or see her, continuing to look out over the ravaged cityscape. “What’s the matter? Can’t you sleep?”  
He tried to smile, but his eyes were empty. “I needed some fresh air.”  
But there was something else, a note of dread in his voice. “I know you too well,” she said quietly, “something’s bothering you, isn’t it?”  
For a moment he was silent, then he said, “I had a dream.”  
“What kind of dream?”  
He was still looking at her neck, couldn’t bring himself to look into her eyes. “More like a nightmare.”  
“Was it bad?” Tenderly she placed a hand on his shoulder.  
“It was about you.”  
“Me?” She looked at him for a long moment. “What happened?”  
Anakin opened his mouth, then shut it again. Still the images reverberated around his head, the sounds filled him with panic. She was going to die… “It was only a dream,” he said eventually.  
“Tell me.” She thought it might help him to talk about it. It was better than keeping things shut up inside, leaving them to fester.  
“You… you were in this white room.” The image came back to him and he looked away, having to grit his teeth to force out the words. “They said you were dying… you were giving birth to our baby and you were dying.”  
Padmé mulled this over for a moment. “And the baby?”  
“I… I don’t know.”  
“It’s only a dream,” echoed Padmé. Sighing, she brushed the damp hair back from his cheek. She wished she could smooth away the trouble in his eyes as easily.  
“What if it becomes real?” he whispered, staring at her.  
“It won’t…”  
“It won’t because I won’t let it,” he vowed, tears stinging his eyes.  
“It won’t become real,” she said firmly, placing her hands against his chest, feeling his heartbeat reassured her. “Hardly anyone dies in childbirth these days.”  
“Really?” It was a subject that he, admittedly, knew very little about.  
“So there’s nothing to worry about.” But she could not help but think his dreams were the result of anxiety, the trouble of having to hide their relationship. Her heart sank. Already she could anticipate the problems that her pregnancy would cause between them. And that was before the baby was even born. They were under enough strain already; could they cope with anymore?  
Anakin remained silent, thinking about her words. Maybe his dream was simply a warning, of what could happen if… if what? If he was not there with her?  
“Anakin,” Padmé said slowly, seeing he was miles away, “Do you think you would feel better if you talked to Obi-wan?”  
“I want to, but I don’t know how he can help.” Anakin rested his chin against her hair.  
“He’s your friend,” replied Padmé simply, “it might help just to tell him and get these dreams off your chest.”  
Kissing her forehead, he looked at her tenderly. “I know and I love him more than anyone, except you. But he won’t understand-”  
“But he might-”  
“No Padmé,” he said more firmly, “If I tell Obi-wan then he will have to tell the Council. We will only make his position as difficult as ours already is.”  
“Why would he have to tell the Council?” Her face crumpled. “Anakin, all I’m asking is that you talk to him.”  
It was not her fault that she knew little about how the Jedi Order operated so he said simply, “Okay, I’ll talk to Obi-wan if it will make you happy.”  
“It would,” she touched his cheek, feeling the chill of his skin, “you don’t have to go through this alone.”  
“I know.”  
“If you’re worried about the baby,” whispered Padmé, fearful for where her thoughts could lead her too.  
“No, of course not,” he managed a smile and patted her stomach. “I can’t lie and say that it’s the best time but this child... our child is a blessing.”   
“Yes, it is.” Happily she embraced him.  
With difficulty Anakin sought to control his own rising anxiety, knowing it would be fatal for her to know that underneath his protective layers of bravado, buried deep down but still there, he was as terrified of the future as she was.

The problem of how the High Command was going to run after the departure of Senator Organa rumbled on within the Executive and the Senate for several weeks before it was finally resolved. The rumour that Tarkin was a possible replacement led to angry exchanges in the Senate, clearly not as subdued as the Chancellor expected and, if the rumour had (as some thought) been a way of testing the waters, it spectacularly backfired. In the resulting lull, the Jedi Council finally managed to secure an appointment with the Chancellor to put forward their interest in taking a more active involvement in the strategic direction of the war, which included a representative on the High Command. Surprisingly, the Chancellor was amenable to this plan as long as the representative was Anakin Skywalker. He would serve alongside a representative of the Senate and the Executive, ensuring that all the main institutions of Coruscant had an interest in the ongoing conflict.  
“He has been a faithful and loyal servant of the Republic,” explained the Chancellor to Mace Windu and Ki adi Mundi as they sat in his office, “and has fought in many varied and intense campaigns. His knowledge of strategy is second to none.”  
“But he not a Jedi Master,” Mace pointed out, “and we would expect our representative to sit on the Jedi Council at the same time as the High Command. In that way there can be no conflict of interest.”  
Finding his response amusing the Chancellor smiled, “There is nothing to stop you from putting Anakin on the Council, is there?”  
Mace sensed the suggestion in the Chancellor’s voice and remained passive, “Not in theory, no.”  
“What I am concerned about,” said Ki adi Mundi, “is that by involving Anakin in the strategy of the war we will be removing him from the field. He is one of our most talented warriors, his strength is in battle not in the boardroom.”  
“You are very right, Master Mundi,” said the Chancellor diplomatically, “however I insist that Anakin is the right, no the only Jedi that is capable of inspiring confidence in the Executive and the Senate. He needs to be able to work with both representatives on equal terms. I cannot accept an alternative at such a critical juncture in the war.”  
Mace and Ki adi Mundi looked at each other for a moment, wondering if too much was at stake to risk Anakin in the Chancellor’s scheme. But it was also an opportunity to put him in a position close to the Chancellor, which would help with another scheme they were planning. I do not like this scheme much, agreed Mace subconsciously, but it might prove of use to us yet.  
“I would appreciate it if you could share your thoughts with me as well as with each other,” coughed the Chancellor, obviously aware that some information was being exchanged between the two Jedi.  
“We agree to your scheme in principle, Chancellor,” said Mace, his expression unfathomable, “although we shall have to put it to the Council before we can agree more formally. We shall call a session today and send our response to you before the end of the week.”  
“Splendid,” smiled Palpatine, getting up to show the two Jedi out of his office, “I hope that the Council makes the right decision for all our sakes.”

Dwelling on what Obi-wan had told him, Anakin paid more careful attention to the movements of the Chancellor's chief administrators and staff. As the elder Jedi had suggested, it did seem that many of them whom he had suspected to be 'grasping fools' had been manoeuvred into positions of seniority in the new administration structure. As he had suggested to Obi-wan these men seemed very capable but they were distinguished by their similarity; all humanoid, all men, all determined to reduce public services in the name of waste and saving resources but very adept at keeping the Republic apparatus in their control. He reported back everything he found out to Obi-wan and so it did not surprise him when, the following week, he was waiting outside the Council chamber pensively to be admitted.  
The heavy wooden doors swung open and Anakin proceeded inside, coming to a halt at the centre of the circle of chairs. Only a minority of the Jedi were present in corporeal or hologram form, the rest of the chairs empty. Obi-wan was sat with Mace Windu and Ki Ali Mundi on one side of the chamber, the Evangelicals sat together on the other side. As Anakin had noticed in previous Council meetings the Evangelicals outnumbered those who desired a more active presence in the Republic. Immediately he was concerned.  
All eyes rested upon him, alone at the centre of the chamber. Immediately he was reminded of a younger version of him stood in exactly the same spot many years ago. Even he knew that he had come far since that day.  
“The Council welcomes you, Anakin.” Mace Windu displayed his usual calm demeanour. "Do you have any idea as to why we have summoned you here?” This question was really to test the Chancellor, to see if he had primed Anakin to expect his promotion.   
“No, Master,” Anakin replied; reading the atmosphere in the room he realised that it was more than a routine interview.  
"Some days ago we were asked by the Chancellor to consider your appointment to the High Command to represent the Jedi Order. The intention is that you will share responsibility for the strategic direction of the war with the Clone along with a representative of the Senate and the Executive,"  
The news was completely unexpected and the young Jedi swelled with pride and gratitude to the Chancellor for his nomination. Although he had not always been certain about Palpatine's interest in him, he had come to see the elderly statesman as a friend and mentor. He was also the only individual that knew about the real end of Count Dooku, a secret which the Chancellor had kept and created a bond between him and the young man which had only brought Anakin further into his confidence.  
"It would mean, young Skywalker, that you would spend more time here on Coruscant as opposed to being in the field," went on Mace, eyeing the young man carefully. Beneath his composed exterior Anakin wreaked of turbulence, casting the Force about him into dark wisps of cloud amongst the glittering lights that usually surrounded him. Clearly something was troubling him. "And it will lead to greater contact with the Senate and the Executive in your day to day activity. The Council is not opposed to your appointment, most of us see the need to play a greater role in the war despite our diminishing numbers. One final push should bring the CLONE to a position where they will be forced to negotiate with us, we have seen it. However, you must not choose this path because the Chancellor and the Council wills it. You must do what is right by your conscience."  
For a moment Anakin was silent. He looked over to his friend, Obi-wan, for any clues as to how he should proceed but the older Jedi was giving little away. It was a difficult choice to make. On the one hand he loved being in the field, directing troops and winning victories against the CLONE. He had never felt more like the powerful Jedi he was supposed to be when on the battlefield, his lightsaber in his hand. But on the other hand this gave him the opportunity to direct overall strategy, to take a hand in winning the war not just winning battles. It would give him more time to see Padmé, critical now that she was carrying his baby. In the end, that made up his mind.  
"You have come to a decision?" Asked Mace, sensing a change in the young man's demeanour.  
"Yes, Master. I would feel honoured to take on the role that the Council and Chancellor have offered me."  
There was a slight gasp from the Evangelicals; they had only agreed to the request based on their own assumption that Anakin was too much of a warmonger to want to remain on Coruscant. Obi-wan too felt surprise, which was also mingled with un-Jedi like feelings of loss of his companion in arms.  
“Very well, we are pleased with your decision," intoned Mace Windu, his expression resolutely neutral, "and I will remind you that your appointment rests upon acting as representative of the Jedi Order. In that respect you will be given a place on the Council in recognition that you should be privy to our discussions and ensure that our wishes are relayed accurately to High Command."  
This was the icing on the cake for Anakin, a seat on the Council. Considering his age this was unprecedented, only the wisest and longest serving Jedi could be considered for the Council. Barely able to contain his excitement, he managed to say very calmly, “The Council should be assured that I will endeavour to do my best to uphold the decisions and principles of the Jedi Order in my work with the High Command.”  
“We are certain that you will, Anakin, which is why we support your appointment. You have proved to be a very capable Jedi with many talents. However, you must realise that your seat on the Council is by invitation and therefore we cannot bestow upon you the according rank of Master. The Council has voted on this matter and the decision is final."  
Despite the honours already heaped upon him, Anakin could not help feeling dismayed by this last decision. “I do not understand, Master. Surely that is against the Council's own protocol?"  
“These are unusual times, Anakin," said Ki adi mundi, "and your appointment to the Council was not made in the usual way."  
"It is only because of the Chancellor and his peculiar interest in you that you are able to sit on the Council at all," said Master Koth bluntly, sending ripples of concern amongst the rest of the Council.  
“I beg your pardon?” Anakin looked at the leader of the Evangelicals in horror.  
"I would not be surprised," went on the venerable Jedi, "if you had not purposefully courted the Senate and Executive to have such a position come your way-"  
Goaded to the limit of his endurance, Anakin, true to form, burst out in frustration, "That's ridiculous!"  
“Anakin, please,” said Obi-wan, trying to warn him of the peril of his position. The Council knew that Master Koth was testing him: the proper response would have been calm acceptance of the criticism and an eloquent attempt of defence. But Anakin, led by his emotions, blundered straight into the trap.  
“This is not the way to speak to a Jedi Master,” said Ki adi mundi, glancing at Obi-wan in concern, “Surely you must understand that from a certain point of view your relationship with the Chancellor does appear to have been the sole reason for this appointment?”  
“No,” contended Anakin, still out of sorts and unable to control his irritation. “I have sacrificed so much for the Republic and never asked for any reward. The Chancellor merely sees my ability, far more than the Council obviously does.” This was directed at Master Koth and the Evangelicals in particular, but the young man was not stopping to think about the impact his words and tone were having on those who might otherwise have sympathised with him.  
“We would ask that you look at the bigger picture, young Skywalker,” said Mace Windu calmly, not impressed by Anakin’s display of petulance but aware that he must be disappointed by the Council’s decision. “Then you would know the response of a true Jedi is fed by the light of the Force, not by their emotions.”  
Chastened, Anakin fell silent. Mace and Obi-wan were right, he had forgotten his place and his training. He should not have responded to the Evangelical’s bait; instead he had only proved them right in doubting his capabilities. “I am sorry, Master, I have no excuse.”  
“You must look outwards, Anakin, not inwards towards your own desires and needs,” Ki adi mundi reminded him gently, “especially if you are to represent the Order in this new capacity.” He leaned back in his chair and turned to Mace Windu, “I suggest Master that we place Anakin on a probationary period of six months to adjudge how well he conducts himself in this new position. In the meantime, we will encourage Anakin to undertake a programme of meditation to address his… more negative feelings. Would that be acceptable to the Council?”  
The Jedi present nodded; for the Evangelicals it was more than Anakin deserved but even Master Koth was astounded by the aggressive nature of the young man and wondered if the CLONE wars had scarred him mentally as well as physically.  
Master Windu asked for a show of hands and all the Council members present agreed to pass the motion. “It is settled then,” said Mace, holding Anakin’s gaze steadily and wondering too if the war had taken its toll on the young man. “I hope you accept our decision, Anakin.”  
“I do, Master.”  
“Then we invite you to take a seat on the Council, with the provision that we will closely monitor you throughout the initial six months of this new position and come to a decision at the end as to your fitness to continue.” Gesturing to an empty seat next to Obi-wan, Mace smiled finally, “I would, on behalf of the Council, like to welcome you Anakin.”   
During this exchange Obi-wan had remained silent, concerned that the volatile nature of the young Jedi, used to such great effect on the battlefield, was starting to have a negative impact on his relationships with others. Like Mace and Koth, he could feel the turbulence in the Force around the young man and was coming to the conclusion that more needed to be done to bring calm to the young man’s life; putting him under more strain would only be unhelpful.  
“Thank you, Master.” Now that the heat had gone from Anakin’s head, he felt only embarrassment and emptiness, “I hope that I can restore your faith in me.” Bowing gracefully, he hastened over to the empty chair. He should have been celebrating his achievement, only now he felt like some naughty child being monitored by strict parents to make sure he behaved in future. The worst thing was that he had brought it all upon himself. Why did he listen to his heart and not to his head?.  
“Now to business,” said Ki ali Mundi, eager to dispel the tension which emanated through the Council chamber. “As you all will know, Republic intelligence has surveyed all systems in the Core, and has found no sign of General Grievous.”   
“It is likely then that he has returned to the Outer Rim,” said Mace, “has this notion been examined?”  
“There has been some disruption to strategy,” replied Ki adi mundi sourly, “since Intelligence came under the jurisdiction of the Chancellor’s office. I suggest that this matter is relayed to High Command immediately.”  
As he said this, he looked over to Anakin, who nodded. “I agree, Master, General Grievous has always skulked off to hide in the Outer Rim when he feels under threat.”  
“Put it to them, then, that as a matter of haste they must sweep through the Outer systems,” agreed Mace, pleased that Anakin was willing to participate and feeling more confident that once his mind was focused on his role, it would help to settle the conflicting emotions inside him. “The other priority is the attack on Kashyyyk. I have word from Master Gallia that the CLONE are dominating the war with the Wookies; she asks that reinforcements be sent immediately to help bolster her campaign.”  
“We cannot let that system fall to the CLONE,” said Ki ali Mundi earnestly, “is it agreed that we concentrate resources in this area?”  
“I will suggest it to the High Command as part of their short-term strategy,” said Anakin, warming to his new role, “does the Council have a suggestion as to who might be sent to relieve Master Gallia?”  
“I propose Master Luminara,” said Obi-wan, gesturing to one of the most tranquil, quieter Jedi Masters sitting next to Ki adi Mundi. “You know Kashyyyk well, do you not?”  
“I do, Master Kenobi,” she replied in her sing-song accents, “although I have had little experience so far with this war my relationship with the Wookies should serve to our advantage. I would be honoured to be given this mission.”  
Although Anakin thought that Obi-wan’s decision was lamentable, knowing that the campaign required a more forceful leader if the Wookies were to win, he knew that there had been enough discord for one day. “With your permission, Master Luminara, I will take this information to the High Command when I report to them later today.”  
The Jedi Master nodded graciously. “I would be pleased to accompany you Anakin so that I might report to them in person.”  
“It is settled then,” said Mace, leaning back in his chair and surveying the room contentedly after all their business had been discussed and agreed. “May the Force be with us.”  
Eager to be away from the stifling atmosphere of the Council Chamber, Anakin left the room as soon as he was able, nodding only briefly to the rest of the Council members. As the Evangelicals filed out, keen to return to their own meditations, Obi-wan made to follow them but was stopped by Master Windu.  
“Master Kenobi, please stay for a moment.”  
Remaining in his chair, Obi-wan waited until the door closed behind the last of the Council. “What is it, Master Windu?” he asked, knowing full well what the theme of the conversation would be.  
“I expect you know, already.” Mace turned his deep brown eyes upon him, “I am deeply concerned about the effect that this war has had on Anakin. When he came to us as a young man, he was full of promise, confusion yes, but we did not doubt his strength in the Force. However, whilst he has achieved his early promise more than tenfold, his strength seems to be located within both the light and dark sides of the Force. We are worried that his ability to control his darker nature is not as strong as it might be.”  
“It makes him vulnerable to any Sith power that is present on Coruscant,” added Ki adi mundi, “that is our main concern. However, he may also be a conduit for drawing it out.”  
“I am not sure what you mean,” said Obi-wan suspecting that the two Jedi Masters had been plotting together.  
“That is why we wanted to ask your opinion, Obi-wan,” said Mace Windu, “you are closer to Anakin than anyone else in the Temple and know how he will react to certain situations. How do you think he might take to this new responsibility he has been given?”  
“Anakin has always been very active and restless,” explained Obi-wan after a pause, “he needs to have his energy channelled into positive activity otherwise he struggles to contain it. In short, he needs a focus, a challenge even. I think that this new responsibility, admittedly given to him by the Chancellor, may be the thing he needs to focus those energies into something positive other than the battlefield. But we cannot ask him to do too much at first, it will be a significant change for him and that might put him under strain.”  
“We see,” said Mace thoughtfully. “Well then, I think it is best we monitor Anakin for the six months proposed before we ask him to undertake any other missions whilst he remains on Coruscant.”  
“What mission did you have in mind?” asked Obi-wan, who could not help being curious. He knew that both Jedi Masters were keen to find the source of the turbulence in the Force on Coruscant only their investigations so far had drawn a blank.  
“This must be kept in strict confidence, Obi-wan,” said Ki adi mundi carefully, “but we think that Anakin’s growing closeness to the Chancellor may present an opportunity for us to investigate further the possible presence of a Sith Lord. That is all we are prepared to say for now, as clearly with Anakin being vulnerable to his emotions we do not want to put him at unnecessary risk until we know he can handle it.”  
“Until then, you must do all you can to help Anakin overcome his weakness,” said Mace, “I will speak to him as well. If we all work together we can help to bring balance back to the Chosen One.”

Alone in the meditation room some time following the Council meeting, Mace Windu reflected on the decline of the Jedi Order in recent years, not only in terms of numbers lost in the CLONE wars and its reputation as a peace-keeping force in the Republic but its cohesiveness. Not since the Second Sith War had there been so much divisiveness within the Order, beginning with Dooku’s defection to the Separatists, the rumours of a Sith Lord sitting at the very centre of Coruscant pulling the strings, and the disagreements with the Evangelicals over how much of a role the Jedi should have in the war. The partnership of Kenobi and Skywalker had once ensured that they were visibly united with the Republic army, but the dissolution of the Elite Corps following the disgrace of Admiral Organa meant that only Anakin now provided a bridge between the Jedi and the Executive, which had whole-heartedly taken over the resources and direction of the war with the Senate’s complicity. Then there were the factions in the Senate itself; the so-called Loyalist senators, despite their own reputation in tatters following the apparent failings of the Provisional Government, were calling for an immediate end to hostilities, even if it meant giving into the CLONE’s crippling demands. They were a small minority however, with most of the Senate denouncing them as traitors. The continuing sorrow and pain unleashed upon the Republic by the war was starting to convince Mace Windu however that the Loyalist’s position was the only way to proceed. The turbulence within the Force meant that there was no easy answer forthcoming from their spiritual guide and, with the war ended, it would give them more time to seek out the source of that turbulence, the suspected Sith Lord.  
There was a quiet knock at the door. “Come in,” called the Jedi Master, opening his eyes.  
It was Anakin. “Master Windu, you wanted to speak with me?”  
“I did, please take a seat, Anakin.”  
Entering the darkened room, Anakin took a seat on one of the low cushions traditionally used by the Jedi for meditation. “Thank you, Master.” He sensed only kindly intentions from the Jedi Master and that immediately put him at his ease.  
Mace’s dark eyes watched Anakin carefully. Although his outward manner was calm, the Jedi Master could sense that some palpable distress in the heart of the young man was tearing huge rents in the Force. It suggested confusion and pain, warping the energy around him. “Do you know why I have called you here?”  
“Not exactly,” admitted Anakin, “but I think it has something to do with my inability to control my emotions.” He was still embarrassed by his failure in the Council chamber.  
“How perceptive you are,” said Mace, “it is to do with your emotions. As we teach here, a true Jedi is able to control his emotions, to look outward and be at peace with others no matter how far they seek to invite him into conflict. You know why we are concerned about you.”  
“Yes Master.” Taking a deep breath, Anakin continued, “I have always struggled to control my emotions ever since I started my training. With Obi-wan’s help I thought I was beginning to master them. But recently I find that I am not at peace with myself. I find it hard to ignore my frustrations and irritation with the opinions of those around me.” It seemed to him that the Jedi training was more suited to a particular type of temperament, like Obi-wan, someone who could distance themselves from their emotions, look upon them as an outsider. This was a characteristic he had never experienced; whatever he felt, it affected him deeply.  
Listening to the young man, Mace realised that admitting to such a weakness was a hard admission for the proud Jedi to make. “Well done, Anakin, you have a good assessment of your own failings. Alongside this we have also noticed a tendency towards impatience, pride and over-confidence. However, you must not think that we have not noticed your capabilities. You have proved yourself to be loyal and compassionate. You are intelligent and have more than enough energy to put the rest of us to shame. You have all the makings of a great leader but you must learn to control the negative aspects of your character which do not belong in a Jedi. Do you understand me?”  
“Yes, Master.” He had tried hard to balance the two sides of the Force which he knew competed for dominance beside him. For most of his life the light side had won, but with the experiences he had been through his reliance on the dark side of the Force had grown stronger. He suspected that Master Windu could see it too.  
“Obi-wan and I will work with you to help you achieve the balance you seek,” continued Mace, sensing that the young Jedi accepted his assessment. “However, I also sense that you are suffering from a great deal of pain and distress. Is there anything I can help you with?”  
Emboldened by the friendly manner of the Jedi Master, Anakin told him haltingly about the terrifying dreams and visions which haunted him, particularly when he was under great strain.  
“If we are open to it, the Force gifts to us future sight,” explained Mace. “It seems that your dreams, Anakin, may be a result of your strong affinity with the Force. But you say it is less of a gift than a curse?”  
“I have many dreams, Master, almost every night. But it is those which show me pain, and suffering which remain with me for longest.”  
“And whose pain and suffering do you see?”  
Anakin swallowed, “Those closest to me.” He described to the Jedi Master how the death of his mother was preceded by such a series of dreams. “I felt her pain as though it were my own.”  
“Let us meditate for a moment,” suggested Mace, feeling that it would help to understand the concerns of the young man more fully. “A Jedi must be careful when interpreting his visions.”  
Closing his eyes, Anakin allowed the tranquillity of the room to fill his mind as Mace attempted to penetrate the halo of confusion that hung about him. It was not a pleasurable task and the elder Jedi soon found himself encircled by a thick, cloying despair which seemed to darken the very chamber about them.  
“You fear the loss of those who are close to you.” Mace said eventually, his eyes remaining closed, “don’t you, Anakin?”  
“Yes, Master.”  
“You fear death itself-”  
“Not for myself,” Anakin was quick to point out.  
“No, from what Obi-wan has told me you have an almost reckless disregard for your own life.” Reaching out to the young man, Mace took his hand. “Anakin, I will be frank. By taking on these visions as predictions of the future and by seeking to control the events which they show, you are making yourself vulnerable to the Dark side.”  
Everything that seemed right to him led to the Dark side, it bewildered him. “What must I do? Are you saying that I should allow the people I love to suffer?”  
“No, Anakin. The root of compassion is to prevent the suffering of others. Yet I sense that you are confusing compassion with possessive love. Such feelings will cloud your judgement because naturally you will not want to let the people you love die. But they have to die, Anakin, if the Force wills it.”  
Anakin nodded, knowing that of all the Jedi’s teachings, he struggled with this the most. “It goes against my very instinct.”  
“Which is why you must re-train your instincts, Anakin. Remember you started your Jedi training as a young man, already formed in your disposition. This is not the case for most Jedi, they are trained from a much younger age when their character is more malleable. That is not to say that you are now too old to learn, on the contrary if you train hard I think you have the strength and ability to overcome this weakness.”  
“Yes, Master.” He could feel the calm strength of the Jedi Master radiating through him, soothing him. “Do you think that these dreams may be some kind of test?”  
“Potentially. The Force can show us a great many things. Some will come to pass, some will not. If they must come to pass we cannot stop them. If the Force wills it, then it must be so. As Jedi we must rejoice for those around us who transform into the Force.” Almost tenderly he squeezed the young man’s hand before letting it go, “We understand, Anakin, the struggle you are having. All of us have lost family, friends and comrades, not least during this war. However, it is the way of all things. Come, let us go and seek out Obi-wan, we will discuss with him a training programme that will help set you on the right path.”

With Anakin’s newfound role on the High Command, he found himself in great demand for presentations and meetings, keeping him busier than ever before. If he was not sitting on the Council or presenting the latest war strategy to the Jedi, he was shuttling backwards and forwards between the Temple and offices of the Senate, Chancellor and High Command. The training programme put together by Obi-wan and Mace Windu was also intense with long periods of meditation and studying the texts on emotion written by the great Jedi scholars. This latter activity kept him in the library for long periods as the librarian refused such ancient and valuable works to be taken out. For the first few weeks he thrived on keeping busy and the realisation that he was in a position where diplomats and bureaucrats valued his opinions, based on his experiences in the field. At the same time however, he found it hard to spend time with Padmé or with Obi-wan, and it began to trouble him a little. After all, it was through their influence that he remained calm and collected.  
After one presentation on the war to the Council, Obi-wan remained behind to speak to Anakin as he packed the holo-projector away. “It is good to see that we are retaining our upper hand, now that Saleucami has finally fallen.”  
“Yes, it took a while to get the Senate to agree that we needed the resources but eventually they saw the value in the plan,” Anakin snapped the case shut.  
“Where will they be needing us next?” asked Obi-wan, sensing that the young Jedi was tired but that was to be expected knowing the demands of his new role.  
“No-one can agree on the details yet,” said Anakin, leaning against the console, “Tarkin thinks we should move more troops to Boz Pity but Senator Danu would prefer targeting Tynna.”  
“There are still so many flashpoints,” replied Obi-wan thoughtfully; “We need to be very certain about deciding where the Jedi should be sent next.”  
“I agree, it takes time though which unfortunately is not on our side.”  
As the two Jedi walked together through the Temple, Obi-wan asked Anakin how he was finding his new role.  
“It is keeping me very busy,” admitted Anakin, “and I am learning that I have to negotiate almost every step of the way.” He smiled at the Jedi Master, “I could do with a little more of your negotiation skills sometimes.”  
“Oh I don’t know, Anakin, you present yourself very ably in the Council,” said Obi-wan, “Master Windu is very pleased with your progress so far.”  
That was good to hear but he sensed a “but” in Obi-wan’s thoughts which prompted him to ask outright what he meant.  
Ushering Anakin over to an alcove at the side of the hallway, Obi-wan looked at him seriously. “There is a concern amongst some Council members that you are spending too much time outside the Temple on the business of the Chancellor and the Senate.”  
It was the old problem resurfacing. “But that is an important part of my role,” he said defensively. “Master, as I have always said my relationship with the Chancellor and the Senate will not undermine my devotion to the Order.”  
Obi-wan sighed, “I know that.”  
“And you told them your conviction?”  
“Of course I did Anakin, but sometimes my word is not enough. It is your actions that they will be watching.”  
“You mean the Evangelicals, don’t you?” He had subsequently found out that it was this faction which had blocked his possible promotion to Master; Mace, Obi-wan and Ki adi Mundi had been happy for him to stand for election to the Council but it would be vetoed by the Evangelicals as long as his position was due to the Chancellor’s influence.  
“Yes, although you did not hear me say it.” Obi-wan did not want to get sucked into the conflict that was splitting the Council apart despite the assured leadership of Master Windu.  
“Don’t worry,” Anakin reassured him, although he was perturbed that his suspicions about the Evangelicals were correct. “Besides, I…”  
“Shush,” cautioned Obi-wan noticing that one of the padawans was approaching them from across the hallway, “we will have to talk about this later.”  
“General Skywalker?” The padawan addressed the younger Jedi.  
“Yes?” asked Anakin kindly, reminded of his own earlier days when he had served as general gofer in the Temple.  
“A message has come for you.” The padawan handed him a flimplast.  
“Thank you,” Anakin scanned its contents quickly as the padawan left them.  
“What is it?” Obi-wan saw Anakin’s expression change from furrowed brow to one of surprise.  
“The Chancellor wishes to see me. Now.”  
That was unusual. Meetings were commonly made weeks, nay months in advance. “What for?”  
“He does not say.”  
“I hope you are being careful, Anakin, in your dealings with the Chancellor,” said Obi-wan warily, “you know that the relationship between him and the Council has been strained since the Order was moved under his direct control with little say in the matter.”  
“I know the Council is wary,” the young man said carefully, trying not to sound judgemental, “but the Chancellor is only trying to use the powers invested in him by the Senate wisely to win this war. Once the war is over, the Republic will return to its normal function, I am certain of it.”  
“I hope you speak the truth,” Obi-wan said, “however, power has the potential to corrupt the most well-meaning person not matter how much they tell themselves they are doing the right thing.”  
A cold wind passed through the hallway and Anakin shivered.  
“Anyway, you better go and see what he wants,” cajoled Obi-wan, “I don’t want to make you late.”  
Despite his friend’s outwardly calm demeanour, Obi-wan could not quite shake his sense of uneasiness as he watched Anakin leave the Temple.

When he reached his office, Anakin found Chancellor Palpatine at the window of his study. A brown haze had hung over the city ever since the CLONE bombardment, barely allowing enough sunlight in and leaving much of the upper levels in gloom. It was worst around the Senate and the Chancellor’s offices where the greatest damage had been sustained.   
“Hello Anakin. I was just looking at the view. So sad don’t you think to see so much destruction?”   
“It is, your Excellency.” He remembered the first time he had seen Coruscant, bathed in sunlight. Those days seemed so long ago now, even a dream. “It has grown so much darker here in recent times.”  
“Yes it has.” Finally Palpatine smiled. “But things have grown brighter since the destruction of Dooku and the Separatists, not least the streamlining of a very inefficient bureaucracy. And we have you and your Jedi friends to thank for that.” The Chancellor went to sit down at his desk, motioning Anakin towards a chair. “You are probably wondering why I called you here at such short notice?”  
“I am, your Excellency,” said the young man honestly, “it usually takes weeks to have an audience with you.”  
The older man smiled, “Yes, it does, doesn’t it. I am so extraordinarily busy with all these new commitments and powers that it will be a relief when this war is over and I can retire from the Senate. I was hoping to return to Naboo and live out my days there. I do not suppose you have ever been to the Lake Country?”  
“No, your Grace.” Padmé had often talked about it to him so he was not entirely ignorant of the area’s charms.  
“I hope one day you will be able to come and visit me there,” went on the Chancellor, seeming to forget the reason why he had asked Anakin to his office. “My family have an estate there, it has the most beautiful scenery with waterfalls and wild meadows to walk in. Quite, quite different from Coruscant.” He regarded the young man kindly, “What am I thinking, I imagine that Senator Amidala has told you all about it, her family have a retreat there too.”  
“She has told me a little about it.”  
“Good, good. Anyway, Anakin I am going on aren’t I and I do not want to keep you from your important Jedi work. I asked you here because I wanted to talk to you in confidence.”  
“What about?”  
“First of all Anakin, before I say anything I need to be certain that you trust me.”  
It was true that Anakin had suspicions in the past about the Chancellor’s interest in him, however over the years he had come to the conclusion that it was the natural interest of someone who wished to mentor someone younger. The Chancellor was wise and practical, and his advice had certainly helped the young Jedi to negotiate the tricky nature of politics in the Republic and to grow in confidence in his own abilities. It meant that he could say without a trace of duplicity, “I trust you implicitly, your Grace.”  
For a moment the Chancellor looked at him searchingly, “I believe you, Anakin. One thing I can always count on is your honesty, which is what makes you so refreshing to this jaded old politician.”  
“I have come to the conclusion that the Republic is in decline because of a lack of honesty,” said Anakin vehemently.  
“Well said. Anyway to business. How shall I put this,” began the Chancellor, seemingly embarrassed. “The Senate is concerned that of late the Jedi Order has started to waver over its support to the war. Not all the Jedi of course, as you and General Kenobi and Master Windu continue to play a sterling role. However, I have heard rumours that there is a growing faction of so-called Evangelicals who call for greater distance from the rest of the Republic and would prefer the Jedi not to fight in the war at all. Is this correct, Anakin?”  
“It is correct that there are a group of Jedi calling for a return to what they see as the fundamentals of the Jedi’s role,” replied Anakin, keeping his tone neutral, “which is primarily a peace-keeping force.”  
“That must be to whom my sources refer. It is just a shame that these rumours, coupled with the misfortunate mistakes that were made in my absence, have led many senators to question the Jedi Order’s integrity.”  
“But the investigation found that the missing resources did not even reach the Temple,” said Anakin firmly, “and the Council had no knowledge of them being ordered.”  
“That is true, Anakin,” replied Palpatine, nodding sagely, “but unfortunately bad news sticks firmly. It is this faction which is causing the most severe problems however, we should be joining together to defeat the CLONE, not arguing amongst ourselves.”  
“There is much truth in that, your Excellency.”  
“Yet I fear that the confusion is more general. We are losing sight of the bigger picture. We are losing our focus. That is why I reluctantly accepted to channel everything through one office, my office, in the hope that it will bring things to a speedier resolution.”  
“That is something we can all agree on,” replied Anakin optimistically, “but the Jedi do not appreciate the decision made by the Senate. They value their independence.”  
“Yes, I am sure they do.” Palpatine glanced towards the window where the spire of the Jedi Temple could be just glimpsed through the haze. “However, there are times when we must all endure adjustments in the name of security.”  
“With all due respect, sir,” said Anakin, hoping that he was not going to be caught in the middle of an escalating row, “the Council is in no mood for any more adjustments.”  
“I know you are concerned to keep everybody happy, that is the kind of person you are. But in this case I fear that we have no choice. This war must be won.” Getting up from his desk, he smiled gravely. “Walk with me a moment please?” As Anakin complied he continued, “I have watched you become a very powerful Jedi, Anakin. Even when I first met you, I knew that you were different. The Republic is greatly indebted to your success in the field and you have won many battles the Jedi Council thought were lost. Furthermore, you saved my life, for which I will forever be in your debt.” Palpatine smiled warmly, “The Republic is counting on you, Anakin, to continue to be its loyal supporter in its time of great need.”  
There was something in the Chancellor’s manner and tone that sparked alarm bells in Anakin’s head. “You can count on my loyalty, your Excellency.”  
“Maybe you should wait until I tell you why I am asking for your support,” replied Palpatine carefully, as though he anticipated it would be a lot to ask. “I am not sure how you will react to this but increasingly it has come to my attention that the divisive elements within the Jedi Order seek to undermine the Senate and the Executive. To be plain, I believe there is a campaign growing against me from within the Jedi Order.”  
“Your Excellency I do not think…”  
“Hear me out first please, Anakin,” said Palpatine anxiously, “To be even more blunt, I fear that if this group of Evangelicals takes control of the Jedi Council then they will seek to withdraw from the war and demand my resignation.”  
Anakin did have his own concerns about the Evangelicals but he could not understand why they would seek to remove the Chancellor. Jedi like Master Koth resisted all intervention in politics. “From whom did you hear this?”  
“A trusted source, Anakin, I cannot reveal their name as they are sworn to the utmost secrecy. However, from what this source tells me it seems that some Jedi may have the desire to become independent from the Republic and to return to their glory days. You must realise, Anakin, that unlike the democratic institutions upon which the Republic is based, to outsiders such as myself the Jedi are shrouded in secrecy. They rely on a spiritual connection to the Force in order to assert their power, creating an elitist group following an ancient doctrine which, if I am honest, has little relevance in the real world and which relies on brainwashing children in order to create fanatical adherents.” Seeing Anakin’s confused expression, the Chancellor very quickly added, “It seems that these Evangelicals would wish to increase this perception of the Jedi, not open them up to greater transparency as the Senate have asked for.”  
It was a while before Anakin spoke, so assuredly had the Chancellor presented an alternative, troubling perspective on the Jedi Order. “I can assure you that as long as Master Windu continues to lead the Jedi Council, we will remain dedicated to the values of the Republic, your Excellency.”  
“Yes, but for how long will he lead the Council?” murmured the Chancellor, mostly to himself. “Nevertheless, the Council’s actions will speak more loudly than their words.”  
“You said that you wanted to ask me something?” Anakin reminded him, worried that perceptions of the Jedi Order were no better now than they had been at the beginning of the CLONE wars. It troubled him, especially after all the sacrifices he and his comrades had made.  
“Yes, Anakin. I can trust you, can’t I, to help me, to help the Republic?”  
“Yes, your Excellency.”  
“Good.” The Chancellor sighed deeply. “It is hard for me to ask you this, I know how loyal you are to the Jedi Order, and to the Republic. I would not wish to create a conflict within you. However, this news about the Order has concerned me, and the Senate, but I cannot rely on one source alone. I am depending on you, Anakin.”  
“On me? I don’t understand.”  
“To be my eyes and ears, Anakin. Now that you have a seat on the Jedi Council, I am asking you to ensure that the best interests of the Republic are represented. To ensure that what the Jedi Council thinks is open and transparent to the rest of the Republic.”  
Looking out of the window, focusing on the horizon, Anakin thought about the implications of what he was asking. He felt his palm grow sticky, breathing deeply to overcome his nerves. “You are asking me to spy on the Council.”  
“Not in so many words,” said the Chancellor soothingly, “I do not want to know everything about the Council’s business. All I am asking is that you inform us of any potentially subversive elements in the Council for the good of the Senate and the Republic. Surely that does not conflict with your attachment to the Order?”  
“I should not think so,” said Anakin carefully. “But you do know that it might compromise my ability to be honest with the Council.”  
“I had not thought of that,” mused the Chancellor, “why, what are you worried about Anakin?”  
“Not all of the Council are happy with my relationship with you,” he went on, determined to be honest with at least one person in his life, “they think I spend to much time on Senate and Executive business rather than on Jedi missions.”  
“There, then my suspicions are correct,” said the Chancellor, seizing on his words, “they do fear me. Well then, Anakin, it becomes even more imperative that you tell me of these things. It may well be that they are seeking to use you to spy on me? Has that ever crossed your mind?”  
“No, your Grace,” replied Anakin, realising that honesty was sometimes not the best policy. “The Jedi are above such things.”  
“Ah my young man, how trusting you are,” said the Chancellor, putting his arm around the young man and drawing him back towards his desk, “now let me tell you a few things about the history of the Jedi Order.”

Accompanying Mace Windu and Luminara Unduli to landing platform 556 where the war-worn battle ship was waiting to take the Jedi Master to Kashyyyk, Obi-wan was still thinking about Anakin’s relationship with the Chancellor. Ever since the rescue mission, Anakin seemed to have garnered a new respect and trust for the elderly politician which Obi-wan was not entirely comfortable with. He did not know exactly why he was uncomfortable, but there was something strange, he thought, in the newfound enthusiasm to which Anakin talked about Palpatine compared to his previous concerns about the Chancellor’s interest in him. It seemed that he had accepted Palpatine’s desire to mentor him which made Obi-wan nervous; he was not certain that a politician’s view of the world was compatible with Jedi teachings.  
“What are you thinking?” Mace Windu asked him, seeing that Obi-wan had been silent for the entire journey.  
“I am worried about Anakin,” admitted Obi-wan thinking that it would be better to share his concerns with his companions. “I do not like his newfound enthusiasm for the Chancellor’s company.”  
“We do wonder if he has grown too close to the Chancellor over the years,” said Luminara with obvious concern. “We thought at first it was merely a passing interest in a promising young man but with this appointment to the High Command it seems that the Chancellor is manoeuvring Anakin into power in the same way as his favoured diplomats such as Tarkin.”  
“He obviously thinks that Anakin has some use to him,” agreed Mace grimly, “which means he is suspicious of the Jedi Council.”  
“He is suspicious of anything independent to his will,” pointed out Luminara, “Perhaps he is trying to take control of us, and hopes to use Anakin to do so?”  
Her words illuminated for Obi-wan why his discomfort had increased; “I agree, perhaps he will seek to undermine Anakin’s loyalty to the Order? Palpatine is very good at suggesting that only he is working in the interests of the Republic.”  
“We would do well to keep a close eye on the Chancellor” mused Mace, “more and more his benign countenance appears to hide a calculating mind. We did think it was the diplomats around him who were directing things but perhaps we have been mistaken? I still believe that Anakin may be of use to us in this respect.”  
“He may be,” agreed Obi-wan, “but Anakin will not cope well under the pressure. If the Chancellor has already impressed upon him the importance of his appointment in regards to the Republic, we may be too late to capitalise on it ourselves.”  
“That is true,” agreed Mace, “but no other Jedi is in his position. We cannot get as close to the Chancellor as he can. There is no other way.”  
“With the proper training Anakin should be able to cope with the pressure,” said Luminara, her dark eyes thoughtful. “He already knows that his relationship with the Chancellor has jeopardised his standing within the Order. I am certain that he will not want that to continue.”  
“No, that is the source of his recent disappointment,” agreed Obi-wan, holding on tightly as the ship started to head downwards to the landing platform.  
“Then he may be open to our mission,” said Mace, thrusting his hands into the deep sleeves of his Jedi robes. “Anyway, we will talk of this later.” No longer was it safe to discuss urgent matters on Coruscant with the heightened security; anything that could be seen as dissension would be reported directly to the Chancellor. It was not until they had bid farewell to Master Luminara and had returned to the air that Obi-wan was able to register his disquiet at the Council’s decision regarding Anakin. “Master Windu I beg you to reconsider your plans for Anakin. Coruscant is not the same place for him as the battlefields and freedom of space, he feels a darkness here keenly which may make him vulnerable.”  
“I know, we are all feeling the effects of the turbulence here,” Mace sighed.   
“But with the strength of his connection to the Force I cannot help but think any unbalance only worsens the already tenuous control he has.”  
“Great chaos there is about him,” admitted Windu, “I have seen it for myself. And I wish there was another way to get to the Chancellor but Anakin is the only Jedi with continual access to him.”  
“He will not like the deception,” maintained Obi-wan, “he will find it very difficult, especially if the Chancellor has already asked him to report on the doings of the Council.”  
“That is a consideration,” pondered Mace, scratching at a swelling lump on his wrist where he had been bitten. “Yet he only need report to us on his perceptions of the Chancellor and his immediate circle. If we are to find this Sith Lord, Anakin’s abilities may well help us to trace them.”  
“Did you find out anything from those holo-cubes we found?” asked Obi-wan, referring to a series of tests undertaken on a number of holo-cubes found after the liberation of Bakura.  
“Yes. It is disturbing as Dooku appears to have been telling the truth. This Sith Lord appears to have connections with the highest levels of Government.”  
“But how?” Obi-wan couldn’t believe it.  
“It took time to de-code but we found that one of the cubes sent by Dooku had a very close match with one of the encryptions used by the Chancellor’s office. One used infrequently but we cannot ignore the implications.”  
“Could the Chancellor be in danger from this Sith? Might he be under his influence?”  
“It goes deeper Obi-wan, much deeper,” continued Mace. “The whole Senate may be under the influence of the Sith, which would suggest why their hostility towards us has been increasing despite our efforts in the war.”  
Obi-wan could see the point that Mace was making. He could not deny it was a possibility; could the war really be part of an ultimate objective to destroy the Jedi, the goal of a Sith Lord? So many of their comrades had been killed in the war or gone missing before and after the unmasking of Dooku, the Order had been seriously depleted. Could that have been its purpose?  
“That is why we need Anakin to undertake this mission.” Mace eyed him critically, it all hinged on this. “We need more evidence. Blind we are otherwise.”  
The more Obi-wan thought about it, the more things were beginning to make sense. The Sith had taken advantage of the threat from the CLONE but they had developed it into something far worse. Joining forces with the CLONE, Dooku had made sure that he was always one step ahead; their sabotage attempts, their ability to know when Republic defences were at their weakest, the abduction of the Chancellor despite the strong security about him and the loss of a system for every hard-won victory, the endless chase of General Grievous across the Galaxy… it pointed to knowledge at the very top of the political hierarchy. Then there was the approach of the Senate and the Chancellor towards the war; their improbable determination to continue the war despite all appeals to the contrary, the increased loss of freedom in the name of security, the unpopular measures that the Senate only seemed too pleased to accept. Moves that were destroying the very fabric of the Republic that they were seeking to protect. “Then we must stop this war and find the Sith before the Order is destroyed,” said Obi-wan a touch too passionately. “By continuing to engage we are only playing into their hands.”  
“It is the conclusion that I too have reached, Obi-wan. However, we must move carefully. We have to protect the Senators and the Chancellor; they will be the ones to suffer if we force the hand of the Sith too quickly.” For once Mace Windu was determined to be proactive. “We have been waiting too long already and the Galaxy suffers. If Anakin can help us to find any evidence of the Sith Lord’s identity, it may help us to act more swiftly.”  
“But is that not a risky strategy?” He had the horrible suspicion that Mace was using Anakin as bait to lure the Sith out.  
“If Anakin is the Chosen One,” replied Mace, pre-empting his concerns, “if our interpretation of the prophecy is correct then he will be the one to destroy the Sith and bring balance back to the Force. He is the only one that can help us.”  
The Temple was looming in their sights and the speeder was making its slow descent to the landing platform at its east side. Obi-wan remained silent, concerned as to how Anakin would take the mission offered to him.  
“Do not think of it as deception, Obi-wan,” Mace said softly, sensing the confusion in his comrade’s mind, “but as a necessary means by which we must defeat the Sith. With the end of Dooku, they may well be looking for a new apprentice and how could a Sith resist turning the Chosen One to the Dark side?”  
“But Master I do not think Anakin will be able to negotiate this path, especially if he is given a conflicting role by the Chancellor.”  
It was as Mace had come to suspect, Obi-wan was as close to Anakin as the young man was to him, “Under threat the Republic is from this Sith. We must do all we can to save it otherwise there will no longer be a Republic.”  
“I understand, Master,” he hung his head in shame, knowing that he would have to follow his own advice. The advice he had given Anakin so many times… to let go.  
“We will wait then until the next session of Council to…” started Mace when a high-pitched bleeping sound interrupted him. It was his comlink. “It’s a message from the Chancellor’s office,” he said knowingly, examining his wrist-strap with a wry smile. “Apparently it’s urgent.”  
“As are all of the Chancellor’s messages of late,” said Obi-wan, rubbing his chin wearily.

Not so far away, an elevator rose to the top floor of the tall skyscraper, its two occupants silent as they waited to reach the safety of the office they were headed for. As the elevator came to a halt, Senator Bail Organa motioned for Senator Padmé Amidala to exit first, following her along the carpeted corridor until they reached his office. Padmé walked more slowly than usual, the still slight evidence of her pregnancy hidden beneath vast swathes of robes. But fortunately Naboo fashion had always an emphasis on large and bulky skirts ensuring that, as far as she knew, no one had suspected her condition.  
As they entered the large, spacious office several pairs of expectant eyes looked towards them. Sitting around on couches near to the expansive windows were various other senators, Mon Mothma, Fang Zar, Terr Taneel, Garn Bel Iblis and Giddean Danu, all from different systems and cultures but all united by their growing disquiet towards the Chancellor and his increasing powers.  
Mon Mothma smiled as Padmé took a seat beside her, sitting down carefully so she could arrange her skirts over her stomach. It was a move she had perfected.   
“You must have taken a tortuous route.”  
“In case we were being followed,” said Padmé, helping herself to a cool glass of juice. “Thank you,” she said to the aide, coughing slightly. Her throat was sore from the long debates in the dry atmosphere of the Senate. “Sly Moore seems to be taking an unprecedented interest in the movements of Bail and I recently.”  
“Really?” Mon Mothma looked interested; “I have had the same concern over my own movements.”  
A number of senators in the room added their own concerns about the amount of information the Chancellor seemed to have about them.   
“A source informed us that she may be Force sensitive,” commented Bail, coming over to take a seat near to Padmé. “It is rumoured that she has enough ability to read minds, although as far as I know from our Jedi friends it takes a great deal of training and skill.”  
“Even so it would not surprise me,” replied Mothma, accepting a glass of juice from Padmé. “Palpatine knows how to manipulate the Senate so well that I am beginning to think he must have access to what we are thinking.”  
“I know we are away from the Senate here but we still must be careful what we say,” Bail reminded her, before picking up his holopad to begin the meeting. “I imagine we are all aware of the ramifications of what has been decided already in the Senate. Not only has the Chancellor taken control of the Jedi Council and the Army, he has appointed regional governors to oversee all star systems in the Republic in his name.”  
“I cannot believe the Senate agreed to these motions,” muttered Terr, taking a sip of hot, sweet tea. “After all, we are supposed to be winning this war. Emergency measures should no longer be necessary.”  
“However, the threat of our success being overturned is a powerful motivator,” said Garn Bel Iblis, a patient looking Twi’lek of indeterminate age. “And whilst the menace represented by General Grievous is exaggerated by the Holonet that threat is never too far away.”  
“I am surprised that the Jedi Council agreed to be taken under the Executive’s control,” suggested Fang Zar, “they have always enjoyed a degree of independence which, frankly, made little sense within the structures of the Republic but enabled them to carry out their duty of their own free will.”  
“I don’t think they were given much choice,” said Padmé, thinking back to her conversation with Anakin. “The Chancellor claims he is working in the best interests of the Republic and who can argue with that?”  
“Whatever the Jedi feel about the matter is unimportant,” argued Mon Mothma, concern etched into her calm features. “Now the Chancellor has restored his control over the Jedi Council there will be no-one to oppose him. Already we have seen how he personally chose General Skywalker to represent the Jedi on the High Command, they have as little say in the future of the Republic as we do.”  
“I do not believe that is true,” said Padmé firmly, wincing to hear Anakin’s name being used in a negative context. “From what I know about the Jedi Council, they will seek, as we do, to retain their independence of action and thought despite the Executive’s desire to control them.”  
“I hope you are correct, Senator Amidala,” said Mon Mothma, “after all, the Jedi themselves are apparently split over how much of a role they should take in the running of the Republic.”  
“But there are those Jedi that would support us, like Padmé I am certain of it,” said Bail, “and there is still enough disagreement in the Senate to suggest that there are others who would support us if only they had more confidence that their concerns would be heard by the Chancellor.”  
“We must seek, then, to win this support within the Senate,” remarked Terr, “and present our concerns to him in person.” His suggestion was met with a positive response by the senators present.  
“Yes, the Chancellor cannot yet think he has complete control over the Senate, otherwise why would he need to implement a system of regional governors?” Bail picked up his cup and put it back down again.  
“It will not be easy,” said Fang softly, “Palpatine has such restricted access to his office that it may take many months to get an appointment.”  
“We must have hope,” said Padmé gently, sensing the agitation around the table, “however fragile it may seem to be at the moment.”  
“Yet our constitution is undermined, in shreds,” ranted Giddean Danu, banging his fist on the table. “There have been so many executive directives most of us have lost count and yet the majority of the Senate agrees to them every time. Palpatine can rightly claim that he speaks for the majority of star systems.”  
“Yet remember the riots when the Chancellor proposed to introduce compulsory service in the Republic army for all citizens at the request of the bureaucracy? Not all his wishes are agreed to quite so effortlessly.”  
There were murmurings around the table in agreement.  
“I say we fight for our Republic,” said Bail forcefully, “We cannot allow thousands of years of peace and stability to disappear because of the whim of the bureaucratic machine and one insidious man.”  
“Hear, hear,” said Terr brightly, banging his cup on the table in support.  
“I know feelings are running high,” said Mon Mothma sternly, concerned that too high an expectation would be garnered in comparison to what they could actually achieve. “But we must remember we are already under suspicion. We must be careful to remain true to our objectives.”  
“I for one do not believe that the Chancellor necessarily wishes for this situation,” smiled Fang Zar, anxious to dampen the rising anxiety. “He assures us that these measures are only an expedient measure and will only last as long as the wars continue.”  
“Individuals come into power with the support of others after all,” added Bel Iblis gloomily, “it may be that the Chancellor is merely representing the wishes of all too powerful interests. He may be a puppet.”  
“With respect, I feel he is more than a puppet. All along he has supported the implementation of these measures,” replied Bail as evenly as he could, “although he is careful to couch it in language which suggests he is doing it for the good of the Republic. But in his self-imposed isolation, he is increasingly out of touch with what the citizens of this Republic actually desire.”  
“I cannot believe it has come to this.” Padmé shook her head. “I have known Chancellor Palpatine for many years; the position of Chancellor was thrust upon him rather than desired and he never seemed to be anything but a fair-minded and committed politician.”  
“Power and greed can corrupt even the most caring, compassionate mind,” observed Mon Mothma with resignation. “It may be that he is a prisoner of his isolation as Bail suggests or it may be that he and his supporters have manipulated the senators well. Certainly, the more ambitious know where the real power lies. Some will do whatever it takes to share in that power. Whether deliberately or not, the purpose of the Senate is changing with every amendment that is made and we must take a portion of the blame. We have helped this to happen when we put our faith in alternative measures.”  
“It is too late now to think what might have been had the circumstances been different,” said Bail in his thoughtful manner, “and unfortunately there is no more time for indecision. We must do whatever is in our power to stop this demise before our Republic vanishes before our very eyes.” There were nods of agreement from around the table and Bail continued; “We cannot afford this information to leak to the Chancellor’s Office. From now on we must be very careful to watch our backs and to keep our discussions here confidential, even from our closest friends and supporters.” He looked across at Padmé and she smiled back bravely. It had been decided that she would become their unofficial leader in the Senate, feeling that her long relationship with Palpatine and illustrious career would afford her extra leverage.  
“Yes, we must not discuss our intentions with anyone, not even our closest friends and family,” agreed Mon Mothma. “Too much is at stake to reveal our purpose too soon.”

Unfortunately for Obi-wan, Mace Windu asked him to deliver the news to Anakin that his help was needed to unmask the Sith Lord at the heart of Coruscant. It was not a decision that Obi-wan took lightly and he spent a long time in meditation, preparing himself for Anakin’s expected refusal. When it came to finding the young man in the Temple, Obi-wan eventually gathered enough evidence to know that he was in the combat training rooms on the Western side. Pushing open the door into the long, wood panelled chamber he heard the sound of incessant thumping; over the far side he could see Anakin, stripped to his light under-tunic, beating the hell out of a synth-fighter.  
Obi-wan winced at the pounding the young man was giving to the machine, hoping it was not an indication of the mood he was in. “Anakin?”  
Stopping abruptly, the young man looked at him blankly as he approached. Sweat had stuck his longish hair crazily about his head; his face and torso glistened with the effort of pounding out all his concern and frustration following the meeting with the Chancellor.  
“Are you alright?” As Obi-wan approached him he was struck by the pungent cloud of damp sweat that clung to him, his evident agitation.  
“I’m fine,” he replied mechanically. Grabbing a towel from the bench nearby, Anakin pressed it to his burning cheeks. “It’s been a long time since I’ve practised,” he said cheerily, hoping to hide the all too evident feelings which continued to bother him.  
“Will you walk with me a moment?” asked Obi-wan gently, handing him a bottle of water.  
“Of course.” Obi-wan sounded serious and Anakin immediately felt anxious.  
For a moment they walked in silence as Obi-wan sought to find the most appropriate wording for his first sentence. Eventually he said, “Anakin, I have to ask you to do something that you will not want to do.”  
A cold feeling gripped Anakin in his stomach. “Go on.”  
Before he introduced the idea, Obi-wan could not help but vent his frustration to the young man. “As I warned you months ago you are too close to the Chancellor. The Council thinks he means to influence our affairs, affairs that he should have no control over. And unfortunately you have become his means to do so.”  
“I know,” muttered Anakin, his friend’s words already hinting at his new predicament.  
“Why, has he asked you to represent him on the Council?” Obi-wan was immediately suspicious.  
“Not in so many words,” admitted Anakin, wiping away the sweat forming on his brow, “but his intention was clear.”  
“Oh Anakin,” this only made Obi-wan even more concerned for his friend.  
“I know, I know, it’s a difficult situation,” said Anakin, “but I think I can negotiate it.”  
“Do you?” Obi-wan went on, “What I am about to ask you, might make it harder.”  
“In what way?” The blood drained from Anakin’s face. Already he was anticipating what Obi-wan was about to say, what the Chancellor had already warned him about.  
“Look, I am on your side. I didn't want to see you put in this situation.”   
“What situation?”   
Taking a deep breath, Obi-wan leaned against the wall as though he was about to fall down. “The Council has found more evidence that the Sith Lord has access to the highest levels of government administration and intelligence. It may well be that they are concealed in the group around the Chancellor. The Council wants you to investigate the location of this Sith Lord and report back to them anything suspicious about the Chancellor and his entourage…”  
“They what?” Anakin blanched at the suggestion. “Why do they suspect the Chancellor?”  
“Because he has been granted extraordinary powers only to isolate himself from public scrutiny. We must know who influences him.”  
“So let me get this straight, the Council want me to spy on the Chancellor?” It was an exact mirror of the request made by the Chancellor. On the one hand, he was impressed that the Council trusted him enough to be given such a difficult, even dangerous assignment. On the other hand he would be forced to dissemble to one of the few people that he felt understood his needs and desires better than anyone, perhaps even Obi-wan. No, that is a foolish thought. He wondered where it had come from.  
“Not exactly,” replied Obi-wan, not liking his task even more now that he was in the middle of doing it. “The Council wants you to report back on your perceptions of the Chancellor’s behaviour, who he is especially close to, and any concerns that you might have about specific individuals. If the Sith Lord is close to the heart of government then they will be very well concealed, it will not be an easy task.”  
“I know,” said Anakin, earning himself a reproving look from his companion.  
“I don’t think you do, Anakin,” said Obi-wan, “you have already been asked by the Chancellor to influence the Jedi Council, you are already in a compromised position before you even take on another mission.”  
“I do not think the Chancellor means to influence the Council,” insisted Anakin, “he wants to ensure that the Order acts in the best interests of the Republic, especially considering the growing influence of the Evangelicals. I have known him a long time now and he has always been a friend and mentor to me. I know the Council do not trust him but I do not sense that underneath his calm and wise exterior lurks a calculating and manipulative politician as you seem to think.”  
“That is why you must help us, Anakin,” said Obi-wan, equally insistent and quietly despairing at Anakin’s inability to see the bigger picture where the Chancellor was concerned. “Whoever is manipulating the Senate is likely to be manipulating the Chancellor. You are close to him, yet you know there is growing disquiet about how he is steering a course through all these competing demands. As Jedi, our allegiance is firstly to the Republic, and secondly to the Senate. The Chancellor makes it difficult to trust him when he has managed to stay in office long after his term has expired…”  
“Master, the very Senate we support demanded that he stay longer!”   
“Yes, but it doesn’t feel right, Anakin. If your judgement was not so clouded by your relationship with Palpatine you might see it too.”   
The criticism as ever stung him into back into a defensive position, as he knew in many ways it was true. “It’s not right to ask me to do this.”   
“I know.”  
“Why then?”   
“It is the Council’s bidding. And as a member of the Jedi Order, it is your duty to consider where best your loyalties and interests lie.”  
Finally Anakin was beginning to see that his relationship with the Chancellor had already jeopardised his chances of progression in the Order. Only he could repair that breach. “Then I know what I must do.”  
“Anakin, believe me. I do not like this any more than you do.” Obi-wan looked at his friend for a moment, searching his troubled blue eyes with his own clear ones.   
Smiling, Anakin placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Obi-wan. I accept the assignment from the Council, it will be hard but I want to find this Sith Lord as much as you do.”  
Obi-wan could hardly believe it. “You are certain of this?”  
“Yes, I hope it will also restore the faith of the Council in my loyalty to the Order.”  
“Then I hope you can handle the pressure,” sighed Obi-wan, “but you will tell me if anything gets too much for you. Won’t you?”  
“Yes.”  
“And I mean anything.”  
“Of course, Master.” Anakin looked away, knowing that the situation he was in was already too much but to admit that to Obi-wan would mean to admit it to himself. And that would mean the end of everything, the loss of Padmé… he couldn’t allow it to happen.


	5. The not good enough Jedi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING - this chapter deals with issues around pregnancy and miscarriage in relation to Padme.
> 
> Tensions between Anakin and Padme increase when she asks him to intercede with the Chancellor on her behalf, to try and encourage him to reopen negotiations with the CLONE. They are both keeping secrets from each other, weakening the foundations of their relationship.
> 
> Then Anakin's worse nightmare comes true - Padme has a miscarriage and loses their baby. She tries to throw herself back into work to hide her sorrow but with all the pressure that she and Anakin are under, there is no time to properly grieve.
> 
> Meanwhile, Chancellor Palpatine is coming to rely on Anakin more and more, and brings the young man further into his confidence. He becomes bolder, telling Anakin that the Jedi do not deserve him, and Anakin, tired and miserable, starts to fall into his trap. Things are made worse when Obi-wan is chosen to lead an expedition to find General Grievous and Anakin is left behind on Coruscant.

As the months wore on, the tension in the city worsened. A spell of hot, sultry weather only made the choked air more thick and more polluted, mingling with the smoke from the shattered buildings which still had yet to be rebuilt after the devastation wrecked by the CLONE. Crime soared and the discontent grew in the echoing halls of the Senate, the offices of the Chancellor and the bureaucracy, and within the Jedi Temple. Meanwhile, with the two missions given to him by the Chancellor and the Council, the pressure was beginning to tell on Anakin just as Obi-wan had feared. Despite the focus on his training programme, the visions he experienced through the Force seemed only to get more frequent whilst he remained on Coruscant, growing in their intensity. Whilst the meaning of these visions remained obscure, most of them suggested pain and suffering for his friends in the future. Tantalisingly the visions warned him but frustratingly gave no indication of where or when the terror would come, leaving Anakin feeling helpless. Unconsciously, his obsession with controlling his visions grew despite Obi-wan and Windu’s training; neither Jedi really understood the impact the visions were having on the young man, and whether from embarrassment or dishonesty, Anakin neglected to tell them.

It was late one night, the moon shining huge against the sky. Whilst the apartment blocks slumbered, a speeder dipped smoothly out of the sluggish lane of traffic, heading towards the quieter streets. As it rounded the corner of one of the surviving apartment blocks in the area, it slowed down as it approached, coming to rest on one of the verandas. The hatch opened and two guards climbed out, followed by Senator Amidala, clutching her heavy skirts, her hair elaborately braided and dressed. As the two guards headed towards the entrance to the apartment, they passed two handmaidens as they came out onto the veranda to greet their mistress.  
Turning back to the speeder, Padmé called to Captain Typho still inside. “Thank you Captain, I am sorry that the meeting took longer than was intended.”  
“Do not worry my lady, rest well.”  
“Goodnight Captain.” Padmé drew back as the hatch closed and the speeder hovered into the air, the wind whipping up dust and the loose strands of hair about her face. Turning to avoid it, through her lowered eyelashes she saw C3PO hovering just in front of her.   
“Hello Mistress Amidala, how good it is to see you safely home.”  
“Hello Threepio.” Sometimes she wished she could fiddle with Threepio’s circuits to make him a little less polite but, in a way, she was glad to have someone around her who was unfailingly cheerful.  
“My lady, might I be of service to you?”  
“Not at the moment Threepio, thank you.” She had a lot to take in after all the meetings that day and she was not in the mood for chitchat.   
“Of course my lady.” It always saddened Threepio when she had nothing for him to do; lacking a purpose filled him with dread.  
“Are you alright my lady?” Both Elle and Dormé sensed that the Senator was unhappy; her face lacked its usual sparkle.  
Padmé smiled apologetically, “It’s been a long day. You can retire for the evening if you like, it won’t be long before I retire myself.”  
“Very well my lady.” Elle and Dormé looked at each other in understanding, seeing that their mistress seemed a little on edge. But they did not question her; instead they curtseyed and disappeared from the veranda, taking a puzzled Threepio with them.  
Allowing her mask of composure to slip, Padmé headed over to the edge of the veranda, looking out across the neon wonderland below. There had been another clandestine meeting about the corruption in the Senate, another suggestion that the Chancellor’s Office was involved. From someone whom she, and the Republic, could trust implicitly, the Chancellor increasingly seemed to have become an opponent of the very Republic he had always sworn to uphold. Putting her chin in her hands, she thought back to how idealistic she had been when she started her career as a Senator on Coruscant; it had been an honour to serve her people, to work for an ancient institution that worked alongside the equally ancient Executive and Jedi Order to uphold peace and democracy for the citizens of the Republic. None of these institutions had been perfect - even then sloth, greed and corruption were problems - but compared to how things were turning out it seemed to her now a golden age. Sighing deeply, she leaned against the balcony, trying to calm the rising nausea in her throat. It had been troubling her for weeks. It was then that she realised she was not alone: “Who’s there?”  
“Only me.” Coming out of the shadows, Anakin stepped towards her, eager to see her. He had been stood there for a while, hoping she would come home before he had to return to the Temple.   
“What are you doing here?” Realising how long it had been since she had last seen him, she ran over and embraced him, forgetting that the veranda was open to the watching eyes of Coruscant.  
“I hope I didn’t scare you.”  
“Not much!”  
Kissing her by way of apology, he sensed she was anxious. “Are you alright?”  
“Yes,” said Padmé, “and no.” She tried to smile. “Come on, let’s talk inside.” Belatedly she realised they outside they were on public display.  
Taking her hand, he followed her into her apartment, “There’s nothing wrong with the baby is there?”  
“No,” she smiled, patting her expanding stomach, swathed in piles of concealing fabric. “The baby’s fine. I went for a scan two days ago and whilst it’s lower than normal, they could not see anything wrong.”  
“That’s a relief,” Anakin smiled, “is he getting heavy?”  
“Not yet. Why do you think he’s a he?” she asked, amused.  
“Surely a baby that big has to be a boy?”  
“Enough of the big,” she swiped him playfully. “Anyway, I hear that congratulations are in order.”  
“They are?”   
“Bail told me that you have been promoted to the Jedi Council.”  
“Oh, that was weeks ago now. Has it been that long since we were last together?”  
“Yes,” a slight frown crossed her pretty features, even if only for a moment.  
“Sorry,” Anakin drew a weary hand across his eyes, “I’ve been trying to find a moment what with all these meetings but either you were out or I had to get back to the Temple. It’s been impossible.”  
Seeing how tired he was, Padmé told him not to worry and took a seat on the couch. “We knew it would be like this.”  
“I thought we’d be able to see more of each other with me being on Coruscant but the reality is not quite as I imagined it,” sighed Anakin, taking a seat on the couch next to her. “The Council wants me to do one thing, the High Command another. It is hard steering a course between them. I appreciate now the trouble that the Chancellor has had throughout this entire war!”  
Hearing the Chancellor’s name, Padmé winced. “Compromise is not always easy.”  
“I understand that now.” Looking for a distraction, he placed his hand on her stomach. Immediately he felt the rippling movements underneath the skin as the baby shifted position.  
“Can you feel it?” she asked in anticipation.  
“Yes,” he smiled, feeling a connection with the new life through the Force. “It’s not thinking very much, just happy to be in a warm, dark place.”  
“You can tell what it's thinking?” Padmé looked sceptical.  
“I think so,” he moved his hand, following the baby as it wriggled its legs, “I can feel something through the Force, it’s only faint.”  
“That’s impressive,” admitted Padmé, knowing that Anakin was going to make a great father since he could perceive what a baby was thinking.  
The distraction provided by the baby was not enough to keep them away from politics for too long and soon their conversation turned back to the growing discord between the Jedi Order, the Executive and the Senate.   
“I feel like I’m stuck between two sides who do not want to compromise,” complained Anakin when Padmé asked him how it appeared from his perspective. “Sometimes I wonder what is happening to our institutions,” he went on, warming to his theme. “Everyone is riven with strife and distrust, so much so nothing functions as it should. Instead of working together everyone is working against each other.” He looked at her intently “I think this war is destroying the principles of the Republic but we seem to be blind to this!”  
Conflicted by her promises of secrecy but seeing an opportunity to strike an allegiance with the Jedi Order, Padmé agreed with him. “Sometimes I think the same, especially when the Senate votes through another amendment to the constitution. I know these changes were made to confront the threat from the CLONE but maybe the threat now is from within rather than from without?”  
“What do you mean?” Considering the existence of the Sith Lord, Anakin was eager to find out what Padmé herself suspected; after all she had been subjected to the same information from Dooku all those years ago.  
“I think our greatest danger is within Coruscant itself,” she said slowly, “there are rumours that the Chancellor and those closest to him know too much. That they have… premonition of what the CLONE is going to do before it happens. That is why they are able to manipulate the Senate so well.”  
“Where does this information come from?” asked Anakin, interested that similar concerns had been advanced about the Chancellor and his office by the Jedi.  
“It is rumoured that Sly Moore is Force-sensitive and is able to read minds.”  
“Funny that I have never noticed anything,” wondered Anakin, “it may just be rumours.”  
“It may be,” admitted Padmé, “but too many confidential conversations have been leaked to the Executive for us not to take it seriously.”  
“See what I mean though,” Anakin pointed out, “you senators complain about the corruption in the Senate and bureaucracy but you wish to carry out your own affairs without full transparency.”  
“Ideas on policy need to be developed away from the Senate,” said Padmé, seeking to clarify her position, “otherwise those ideas would be defeated before they were properly formed and articulated. The corruption in the Senate goes deeper than a few clandestine conversations, the very ideals that we have fought to maintain for thousands of years are being undermined by the changes to the constitution.”  
“Yet those changes were voted in democratically.”  
“Perhaps but they were motivated by fear,” argued Padmé, the tension of her last meeting still haunting her. “You certainly cannot say that the changes brought in have helped democracy to flourish.” Taking a deep breath, she faced him; “Have you ever thought that maybe we are on the wrong side? That the democracy we once fought for no longer exists?”  
“Be careful what you are saying,” said Anakin abruptly, alarmed that the conversation seemed to have ignited some fervour within her. “I know that the Chancellor is doing his very best to keep the Republic intact despite the bickering which would otherwise split it apart. The reasons you give for abandoning the Republic sound very much like those advocated by the CLONE and the Separatists!”  
“Maybe there was some truth in what they were saying after all,” grumbled Padmé, folding her arms defensively.  
“You’d rather believe the word of traitors than of your own democratically-elected Chancellor?” Anakin looked at her as if she had gone mad, “I can’t believe I am hearing you say this!”  
Stung by his words, Padmé looked at him beseechingly. “You cannot deny we have lost much, if not all, of our original purpose. There has been too much talking and not enough listening.” Taking his hand, she took a deep breath, “You know more than anyone how badly this war has affected the Republic. Yet still it drags on, surely you see that we need to put an end to the hostilities?”  
“We are doing all we can to pursue General Grievous,” he reassured her, “and find the whereabouts of the CLONE leaders. They have evaded us for many years but we are closing in on them, I promise you.”  
“But why must we take more lives when we could re-open negotiations with them?”  
“You saw what happened when the Chancellor tried to negotiate with them,” Anakin reminded her patiently, “we lost two of our Jedi Masters and three battalions of Republic troops. No, the only way is to capture their leaders and the Chancellor agrees with this strategy.”  
“Surely if you were to pursue a different course of action, the Chancellor might listen to you?”  
“Yes he would but Padmé-”  
“I’m asking you Anakin, please try and see if he will change his mind,” she begged. “Surely the High Command should be exploring every possible avenue to end this war?”  
“I am doing all I can!” he snapped, already suffocating under the weight of too many expectations from others. Agitated, he got up from the couch and went over to the window. “I told you, there is a difficult path to tread and I cannot just go and introduce ideas without being confident that it will succeed.”  
It sounded similar to her own situation. “So you’re telling me the Chancellor wants this stalemate to continue?”  
“The Chancellor wants what is best for the Republic.”  
“Then surely...”  
He glared at her angrily; “You’re the politician and you expect me to run around, solving your problems for you?”  
“I did not expect…”  
“Do want you want but keep me out of it.” The air was damp and humid, stifling him; the buildings seem to crowd in around him. He felt trapped.   
“But you have more access to the Chancellor than anyone else,” said Padmé, her own frustration increasing. “He trusts you. It only seems sensible to ask you to approach the Chancellor on our behalf!”  
She had never been angry with him before and it startled him out of his complacency. “Maybe if you had any good ideas about how to end the war then I might be prepared to argue on your behalf.”  
“What is that supposed to mean?” she demanded, her arms still folded across her stomach, “anyone would think you want this war to continue!”  
“Perhaps war is the only way we can defeat the CLONE? You and your precious negotiation has never achieved anything!”  
Cheeks flushed and pulse racing, Padmé could no longer endure his opinion. “Look around us, Anakin!” she cried, coming over to where he stood, daring him to turn away. “Look at the destruction! Do you want it to continue until there is nothing left? Until there is no Republic left to defend?” Faced with his silence she continued, ignoring the bitterness that rose suddenly in her throat, “Until we are all dead?”  
“You know I don’t…” began Anakin, but stopped when he saw she was breathing heavily, clasping her stomach. Pain engulfed him, sending him giddy. “What is it?”   
“I need to go to the bathroom, I’ll be back in a minute.” Her voice sounded forced.  
It was an anxious moment as Anakin waited for her to return. As she emerged from her bedroom, he helped her back to the couch, stroking her back with his hand to calm her. “Where does it hurt?”  
“It’s nothing,” repeated Padmé, pushing his hand away, “I just felt sick. It’s common in pregnancy.”   
“You’re not in pain?” He could still feel something tightening in his own guts. She had clutched her stomach - what if it was the baby? Suddenly afraid, he made to embrace her but she pulled away.   
“I’m all right.” She was still too irritated with him to want him to fuss over her.  
It had been his harsh words that had provoked her upset, what had he been thinking? “I’m sorry.”  
“It’s not your fault,” she said quietly, rubbing her stomach, “I shouldn’t get so angry about things. The medic told me that I need to avoid as much stress as possible.”  
They sat together for a moment, silent in the sticky night air, listening to the whine of the traffic and occasional siren that broke the monotony. As she calmed down, Padmé wondered if she had expected too much of Anakin. Ever since he had returned to Coruscant, he had become sensitive about his relationship with the Chancellor for reasons that were unknown to her. But she was beginning to think that the hostile reaction to her request was precipitated by something else. Turning back to the brooding young man, she held out her hand to him. “You would tell me if there was something the matter, wouldn’t you?”  
Although he took her hand, Anakin remained silent. It was the same situation as with Obi-wan; he knew that if he told her even one of his concerns, opened up to her his innermost fears, he would have to tell her them all. And it would horrify her; tonight had proved that. If their ideas about how the Republic should be governed were becoming incompatible, there was little else that he would be able to tell her that would not provoke a similar reaction.  
“There is something, isn’t there?” His lack of response confirmed her suspicions and she moved closer towards him. “Maybe talking about it will help?”   
“I can’t, Padmé.” Stubbornly Anakin stared at the floor of polished marble, seeing a spectre reflected back up at him; a dark figure, brow furrowed by turbulent feelings, lips twisted from the bile of closely held secrets simmering in his heart.  
“Please,” she looked at him pleadingly, her anger forgotten. “I want to help you.”  
Embarrassed that his own emotions were so obviously on show, Anakin looked away, no longer able to meet her steady gaze. Part of him desperately wanted to confide in her but as much as he trusted her, he could not risk her finding out about his deception on both sides. “You can't help me,” he said fatalistically, finally drawing away his eyes from the man he had become, the man that equally repulsed and fascinated him. He kissed her forehead. “Look, I’ll speak to Chancellor Palpatine, if you think that would help. But I can’t promise anything.”  
“Thank you.” Perhaps she should have been pleased that he had agreed to help her but looking into his eyes, Padmé was frozen by what she saw momentarily in their depths, so at odds with his words. Distressed by what was happening to them, she buried herself against his chest. As his arms enfolded her, felt his cheek against her hair, she should have felt safe but even that was spoiled now, eroded by the cruel machinations of others.

Leaving the apartment, Anakin almost collided with Elle and Threepio, who had heard raised voices in the Senator’s private sitting room and had come to investigate. However, when they saw Anakin they realised that perhaps it had been a lover’s tiff and Elle smiled knowingly to herself.  
“Elle, may I have a word?” asked Anakin.  
“Of course, General Skywalker.” Sending Threepio away, she went over to him and asked pleasantly, “What can I do for you?”  
“Can you keep an eye on Padmé for me, please?”  
The handmaiden was immediately worried, “Is something the matter with the Senator?”  
“We had an argument, nothing important,” he explained, knowing that he could trust Elle to be discreet, “but she had pains in her stomach, I think she was sick afterwards.”  
“She has been quite unwell recently,” admitted the handmaiden, “I’ve heard her being sick in the mornings and the doctor said it was quite normal for women in her… condition. But she refuses to slow down, you know what she is like.”  
“Yes I do,” he sighed deeply, “All we can do is keep an eye on her and hope that she gets better with some rest.”  
“Where is she now?” Elle knew full well that her mistress would try to carry on as if nothing was the matter, as she had been doing ever since she had found out about her pregnancy.  
Anakin managed a weak smile, “I’ve made sure she’s gone to bed. I’m sure I’m overreacting but I’d be happier if you were to keep a closer eye on her and make sure she goes to the doctor if it happens again.”  
She nodded in understanding. “Don’t worry, we will all keep a close eye on her, I’ll let you know if anything else happens.”  
“Thanks Elle. I appreciate it.” Despite her reassurance, he left with a heavy heart; unable to shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen.

Back in his bed in the Temple, the night was a succession of jumbled images. He saw Mace Windu, the wind whipping his robes, his face contorted with anger. He saw the Jedi Temple consumed with fire. But worse still, he saw Padmé screaming in terror, hands holding her down trying to prevent her from crying out, only this time… this time it was Obi-wan who was soothing her, urging her to keep going, Don’t give up Padmé… and still reeling he awoke staring at the ceiling in confusion.

Throughout the few days, Anakin could not help dwelling on his concern for Padmé. If anyone noticed his listlessness it was easily attributed it to the demands of his new role in the High Command. Recent strategies had afforded some success on Dorn Mageddan, which, under the leadership of Masters Aalaya Secura and Agen Kolar, had so completely pulverised the army of the Hunnites that they had agreed to enter negotiations to end their hostilities and force Nute Gunray to step down as their Viceroy. Although this was an important step towards the rehabilitation of the Hunnites, and was expected to lead to other systems following suit, Anakin could only show a feigned interest. Feeling distracted he only just managed to make it through yet another meeting with the Chancellor, who had wanted to talk about what the Jedi Council really thought about the changes that had been made to the High Command. They had skirted round the issue of him not being made a Master thankfully but the pressure on Anakin to maintain a cheerful and upbeat disposition had been immense and relief only came when he was out the door and on his way back to the Temple. That was when things started to grow strange. As he crossed the square, he was suddenly struck by a vision. Clear as day in his head he could hear the screaming that had haunted him night after night. Could see the images of horror, of pain, of Padmé screaming. The baby screaming. Clutching his head, he grabbed drunkenly at a nearby lamp-post, feeling the agony inside his head as though fire had consumed his mind. It then faded away as quickly as it had gripped him. Breathing heavily, Anakin ignored the stares coming from curious passers-by and headed with even greater determination in the direction of the Temple. As soon as he was able to discharge himself from his duties he rushed over to the Senator’s apartment, convincing himself that he would find her there, safe and well. After all, had not Master Windu and Obi-wan told him that his visions were premonitions only?  
Reaching the hallway, he uncharacteristically decided to ring the doorbell rather than let himself inside. It was Threepio who answered the door. “Good afternoon, General Skywalker. Thank goodness you are here!”  
“What is it Threepio?” Already alarmed by the droid’s demeanour Anakin stood rooted to the spot.  
“Senator Amidala has been rushed to the medical centre,” said the droid tremulously. “Miss Dormé has been trying to contact you all afternoon to no avail.”  
“I must have had my communicator on silent,” replied Anakin, silently cursing his stupidity. “Is she alright? What has happened?”  
“Oh dear this is most terrible, I was hoping that she would be able to tell you what had happened rather than having to hear it from me.”  
“You can tell me on the way,” said Anakin, gesturing for the droid to follow him. “Now, I’m going to need a disguise…”  
Eventually Threepio found him a spare uniform that belonged to Captain Typho, who was unfortunately larger than the slim Jedi but it was enough to pass him off as a citizen to the ordinary eye; Jedi mystery would do the rest. After hailing a speeder, Anakin and the droid set off for the medical centre.  
“From what I know,” explained the droid as they sped through the traffic, “the Senator fainted whilst coming down the steps of the Senate building.”  
“Sounds serious,” remarked Anakin, keeping his tone neutral as to appear to be a concerned member of her household.  
“They took her to the medical centre straight away and she has been under observation for the rest of the day. That is all I know, I’m afraid.”  
“Thank you, Threepio.” Trying to control his fear, Anakin stared absently out of the window, telling himself that Padmé and the baby would be okay. By the time that they reached the medical centre, Anakin was almost beside himself with worry but had to remember that he was supposed to be a member of her security. Marching into the reception area, he forced his way to the front of the queue and compelled the obviously reluctant secretary to tell him where Senator Amidala was located: Room 457, Corridor 6754. Heading to the lift, leaving Threepio to pacify the angry patients he had displaced, he noticed that corridor 6754 was in the antenatal ward. Dread gripped him in its icy fingers – maybe there was something wrong with the baby after all, or maybe it was just a precaution? Time seemed to drag on as he waited for the lift to reach the correct corridor, his thoughts in such turmoil that he had to lean against the wall to steady himself.  
“Can I help you?” asked the attendant sternly as he approached her desk. “To be here you must have the necessary clearance.”  
“I have come to escort Senator Amidala back to her apartments,” he began, knowing that he would have to think on his feet. Obviously he could not reveal the real reason why he was there.  
“Senator Amidala?” Immediately the attendant’s face changed. “Oh yes, you must be Captain Typho, I was told to expect you. Please come this way.”  
As they walked down the cold, clinical corridor, Anakin asked the attendant how Padmé was doing.  
“She is not doing very well considering her loss, but she is well enough now to return home.”  
“Her loss?” Time froze over.  
“Oh, I apologise. I expect you did not know that she was pregnant?”  
“Senator Amidala has informed us,” said Anakin coolly but his heart was breaking.  
“She is still very fragile, having lost a lot of blood, but we have given her all the care she needs,” the attendant was all practicality but Anakin was barely listening.  
“She is in here,” said the attendant, gesturing through a door that slid open quietly; “Please come and sign the necessary paperwork when you are ready.”  
“Yes.” Anakin entered the cold, clinical medical chamber to find Padmé lying quietly on a couch staring listlessly at the ceiling. Elle was stood beside her mistress, holding her hand.  
“How is she?” asked Anakin as he came over, only Elle noticing his arrival.  
“Physically she’s getting better,” replied Elle, looking sorrowfully at Anakin, “the doctor says she can go home today. Padmé,” she said gently, squeezing the limp hand, lying cold in her palm. “Anakin’s here.” Leaving the two alone, Elle went out to wait in the corridor.  
She turned her head to look at him; recognition in her eyes. “You came,” she said with evident relief, her voice so quiet he could barely hear her over the noise of the machines.  
Seeing the state she was in drained away any hope that Anakin had left in him, leaving only the murky waters of despair. The pain in her eyes would always haunt him. Bending down, he kissed her forehead and whispered, “I know what’s happened.”  
“I lost him,” she said flatly.  
“It was a boy?” Anakin clutched the sides of the couch, prepared for the news but not prepared for the emptiness that gripped him.  
“Yes,” she managed a weak smile. “You were right.” She could barely remember what had happened; the last few hours of her life seemed to come to her only as fractured images. Her mind did not seem to be working properly, she was sure there was something important she had to tell him but it slipped from her grasp and fell back into the mists.  
It was difficult to know what to say, so he said nothing and pushed the damp hair away from her forehead.  
“What are you wearing?” She was looking at his clothes with confusion.  
“One of Typho’s spares,” he explained, an attempt at a smile, “why, d’you think it suits me?”  
“Not really,” she replied, smiling too. And then all of a sudden, her face crumpled like sodden paper, the tears raining down.  
“My love,” shaken, he buried his face against her neck and they cried together for a long time, their sobs muffled by their closeness and the gentle bleeps of the machines.  
“I’m sorry.” Padmé clutched him tightly; now he was here she could not let him leave her again. She could not bear to be on her own with the pain inside, in her heart – it was unbearable.  
“It’s not your fault,” whispered Anakin, his voice choked. Imagining the pain she must have felt and he hadn’t been there to help her. “You mustn’t think like that.”  
“But I went to the Senate although I felt unwell,” she continued wretchedly, despair and guilt robbing her of her spirit. “I should have sent Elle.”  
“No, no, it’s not your fault.” Anakin was struggling with his own pain and guilt. He had not only dreamt of the baby’s death but their argument must have caused her additional strain. He couldn’t help but wonder in some way if they were connected. “You fell. It was an accident.”  
After a while Padmé quietened but he remained close to her, perched on the edge of the couch his arms around her shaking body. Bereft of her usual ornamentation she looked so small; wrapped in a white shift she was lost amongst the white sheets and white walls. “They think I should be able to have more children,” she tried to be positive.   
“We don't need to think about that just yet,” he said, trying to take comfort that what happened was the will of the Force. “Maybe one day but… but not now.”  
“Will you take me home?” she asked, eager to escape from the confines of the hospital and be surrounded by familiar things.  
"I'll stay with you as long as you need," he promised.

A week later he went to check on Padmé: he had heard from Elle that the Senator had thrown herself back into her duties in the effort to take her mind away from the recent trauma. Anakin had used the same tactics but then he was not physically affected by the experience and he was sure that Padmé was being reckless with her health and wellbeing.  
“Greetings General Skywalker,” said Threepio cheerfully, as he opened the door to the Senator’s apartment, "I will tell the Senator that you are here."   
“It's okay, Threepio,” said Anakin tersely. It had been a long day and he was in no hurry for chit-chat. “Where is she?”  
“Upstairs I believe,” continued the droid, eager to be helpful, “can I get you anything…?”  
“No thank you,” Anakin called over his shoulder, already on his way to the stairs.  
“Anakin!” Padmé was sitting on the couch reading a holopad when he found her in her private sitting room. Getting up, she embraced him warmly.  
“How are you?” he asked, seeing that her cheeks were flushed and her eyes a little too bright.  
“I’m alright,” she said but the fact that she was still shaken by events was evident in her voice.  
He watched with tender concern as she sat back down, took a seat next to her. It was very late to be still working. “You’re not taking care of yourself are you?”   
“Of course I am,” she frowned, batting him with her holopad, “would you rather me sit around and mope?”   
Despite her toughness he saw that her lip trembled. “No.”  
“Good,” she pouted, placing the holopad upon a pile of others and giving him her full attention.  
“I’m concerned that’s all,” it was his turn to frown when he saw all the paraphernalia of the Senate strewn across the couch and the table. “Are you sure you’re getting enough rest?”  
“I am resting,” she protested, leaning her head against his shoulder as he mussed her hair playfully. “But there are things that need to be done.”  
“Padmé…”  
“Anakin, I am fine,” she insisted, but she couldn’t meet his eyes, “There’s no need to worry so much.”  
“I thought you were going to take some more time away from the Senate.”  
“I was but then I found out what is happening in the Senate.” She looked at him meaningfully, “besides it will be best if we pretend that nothing has happened. For the sake of our positions we must continue as normal. Too many questions have already been asked about my accident.” The event had even made the Holonet, although thankfully the exact cause of her absence from the Senate remained idle speculation.  
“But you’ve been under a lot of strain,” persisted Anakin, “returning to the Senate so soon will not help.”  
Looking up into his stormy eyes, she pleaded, “Please Anakin, don’t fuss. I need to keep busy. You of all people must understand that?”  
“Yes,” he agreed grudgingly, “but…”  
A buzzing noise distracted both of them. Reaching into his tunic, Anakin pulled out the shrieking comlink, whilst Padmé’s heart sank with the knowledge that he was going to have to leave almost as soon as he had arrived.  
“Go ahead.” He listened to the urgent message, “Of course, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Returning the comlink inside his tunic, he looked at her apologetically.   
“You have to go,” she said blankly.  
“Yes, I have to see the Chancellor.”  
“But it’s so late.”  
“They wouldn’t say what it was but something urgent has come up,” he frowned, leaning over to kiss her.  
She kissed him back dutifully. “You better go then.”  
And although she insisted, again, that she was fine, that she had Threepio to look after her and plenty to keep her mind occupied, he was still not convinced as he left her. Her eyes were so huge they looked like dark holes in her pale face, and when he had kissed her goodbye he was certain that he could taste the salt water on her lips.

Anakin had never been to the home of the Chancellor before; in fact he was surprised that the Chancellor even had a home. It had often crossed his mind that the elderly statesman was very rarely seen away from the environs of his office or the Senate. The young Jedi had almost come to believe that Palpatine actually lived in his office, with some kind of bed hidden behind the book-shelves. However, such entertaining thoughts proved to be foolish when he was whisked that evening to one of the more exclusive apartments in the western side of the city. The amount of security, not obvious to the ordinary eye but clear as day to the Jedi eye, alerted Anakin to the fact that he was about to enter into the inner sanctum of the most powerful man in the Galaxy. It made his skin tingle before he even entered the building.  
Ushered into the entrance lobby, Anakin caught his breath. Towering upwards towards the dark Coruscant sky, light in the building was provided by hundreds of tiny glowing spheres that floated from the floor high up to the dome above, seemingly unsupported. It became clear that the apartment was more lavishly furnished than Padme's grandiose reception room and it made the Jedi Temple look positively spartan in comparison. For a man of relatively simple tastes like Anakin it was enough to bring him out in a cold sweat. Venturing into the upper echelons of society always terrified the otherwise brave and confident Jedi and whenever he was forced to by duty or by accident, he was always pleased to make his way out again. Silently he hoped that the Chancellor’s message would be delivered quickly so that he could get back to more familiar surroundings.  
Escorted by two guards to the Chancellor, their faces hidden behind the familiar glossy red helmets as issued by the Republic’s premier security force, Anakin had endured the humiliation of giving up his lightsaber. Not that he really cared; if he wanted, he thought, he could crush their windpipes with a single movement of his hand. As they walked along, he looked about him with curiosity, seeing the elegantly painted walls and elaborate knick-knacks arranged in the corridors, the high ceilings and ornate doors hinting at even greater treasures within. Behind one door lay the Chancellor’s sitting room, into which he was ushered by an apologetic aide, whose name would be forgotten as soon as it was uttered. There was something about the creatures that the Chancellor surrounded himself with; they were faceless, immensely polite, but immediately forgettable. However, the success of Anakin's mission depended on remembering their names, and he was making a careful note of everything he saw, heard... and sensed. For a moment he waited, careful not to touch anything in case he broke it, or even get too close to the furniture. Tables were groaning under the weight of wonderful and abstract artworks, nothing that Anakin recognised. Not that he was interested in art anyway; he had never owned any and assumed he never would. It was not for a Jedi to appreciate representations of beauty when the universe was beauty in itself.  
The aide returned, carrying a tray of drinks. “Chancellor Palpatine will see you now. Please follow me.”  
Surprised that they not be meeting in the room itself, the young Jedi followed the aide through a door in the corner of the room, hidden beneath elaborate drapes, and down a corridor tiled in rich, deep green. The light rippled on its surface, creating unnatural shapes. Reaching a branch in the corridor, the aide gestured towards a door to their left. “Through there, if you please sir.”  
Pushing open the door, Anakin immediately blanched as he heard the splashing of water. Where was he being taken? But the aide was behind him so he stepped into the room. The walls and ceiling were covered with the same green tiles as the corridor and it was half-lit so as to create a relaxing atmosphere. In the middle of the room was an enormous pool, stairs leading down into the gently steaming water. And, in the middle of the pool, swimming sedately towards him, was the Chancellor.  
“Ah Anakin, you made it,” said Palpatine benignly as Anakin, still glowing unnaturally, stood to attention at the edge of the room.  
“Good evening, your Excellency,” said Anakin politely, not knowing where to look.  
Mercifully the Chancellor remained in the water. “I am sorry to have called you here at this ungodly hour.”  
“Not at all.”  
The aide had finished laying out the drinks on one of the nearby tables and was looking towards his master  
“You can leave us now,” said the Chancellor cheerily. Then to Anakin, “Get yourself a drink, and come and sit by me.”  
Complying, Anakin went over to the side of the pool and sat down close to where the Chancellor had indicated. “It must be nice to have your own private pool.”  
“Yes, away from the prying eyes of Coruscant,” smiled the Chancellor. “Thank you for coming at such short notice, my boy,” continued Palpatine, eyeing the young man carefully. “It is unusual is it not to be called to a meeting in such a place as this?”  
“It’s not ever happened to me before,” he replied, unsure where to position his gaze.  
The Chancellor adjusted himself in the water, causing slight waves to ripple across the surface; “Yet you cope with it marvellously well. Anyway, on to the reason why I dragged you here. I am pleased to report that we have news of a marvellous coup!”  
“You do?” After everything that had happened recently nothing short of a miracle would convince him there was some good news left in the Galaxy.  
“And I wanted you to be the first to hear it, Anakin, so forgive me for summoning you whilst I am in this... less than decorous position.”  
“Not at all your Excellency,” Anakin thought it a hilarious anecdote to tell Obi-wan.  
“Republic Intelligence has found Grievous.”  
“They have?” Anakin immediately put down his untouched drink.  
“Indeed, after you so successfully routed him, it seems that he fled to the Utapau system and has been hiding there ever since.” While he spoke, Palpatine splashed about in the water, scooping it up and running it down over his shoulders.  
“Finally,” Anakin conjured up a smile from somewhere, felt the familiar excitement of an impending campaign. “We’ll be able to capture that monster and end this war!”  
“Yes, it’s good isn’t it?” The Chancellor swept his arms through the water, “And I think that you and General Kenobi, with the support of the High Command of course, should undertake the mission to capture him. In fact I am going to suggest it to the Council.”  
After all the time spent on Coruscant getting mixed up in political intrigue, finally there was some action to be his! For a moment Anakin was too delighted to be able to speak, and even the Chancellor was concerned that he had made a mistake.  
“Would that suit you Anakin? I can certainly ensure that if you wish to remain here...”  
“I would like nothing more,” Anakin finally said, forgetting all his recent disappoints in the promise of adventure, “than to lead this campaign with Master Kenobi.”  
“Who else could I consider?” said the Chancellor, pleased to see him so animated. Slowly he rotated in the water, a smile on his thin lips. “I of all people can see that Coruscant does not agree with you. You are a warrior, Anakin, not a politician."  
How well the Chancellor knew him. "I hope that the Council are open to your suggestion."  
“I cannot imagine why they would disagree with me. To have the two Republic heroes fighting side by side once more... Yes, it will be the first thing I shall do tomorrow.”  
The Chancellor’s belief in him was infectious and he stayed for a long while after the Chancellor excited the swimming pool, discussing the implications of the campaign and what it would mean for stability in the Galaxy.

The lush planet of Kashyyyk remained a war zone, the invasion of the CLONE far more threatening to the Wookie population than the Council had anticipated. Helicopters circled the series of atolls, clusters of islands that formed the basis of the Wookie heartlands. Unlike many parts of the Republic, here the trees had been retained to provide shelter for the Wookie settlements. Now these same trees formed a vital part of the war effort. Spiralling up and around the trees were constructed wooden platforms, Wookies swinging on vines bringing messages, allocating equipment and directing the gathering troops. On the beach below, a large group of Wookies clustered, conferring in their dense and guttural language pointing and jabbering at one of the larger platforms. Carrying a message, one of the Wookies broke free of the main group and headed towards the tree into which the largest platform was built. Climbing the ladder to the platform, he brought it over to the tall Jedi Master standing amidst her forward command. Luminara received it and nodded her thanks.   
In front of the Jedi Master on the console were projected the tiny holograms of the Jedi Council, repeatedly breaking as the message travelled across the vast expanses of space. “Republic Intelligence thinks that General Grievous is on Utapau,” Ki ali mundi’s tiny form was saying, repeating the urgent information delivered to them by Anakin from the Chancellor’s office. “However, we have had no indication of this from our own agents; there has been no sign of Grievous for months now.”  
“Yet this could be the breakthrough that we need,” considered Luminara, eager for an end to hostilities now that she had seen for herself the unnecessary destruction it caused.  
“Yet I cannot help but wonder how the Chancellor received this information and we know nothing about it?” cautioned the hologram of Mace Windu, “I feel something is not right here. All our contacts indicate that after the recent hostilities the inhabitants are ready to renounce the CLONE, not provide shelter for its leaders.”  
In the Council chamber on Coruscant, Anakin, tired and emotional, forced himself to keep calm in the face of the Council’s suspicion. Despite the news being imparted that morning, it had taken them all day to reach a decision to call the Council and already the debate had dragged on for over three hours. He had already been back and forth between the High Command and the Chancellor several times that day. “Master, as I said when I delivered the information, the encrypted message was intercepted in a diplomatic packet sent to the Chancellor from the Chairman of Utapau. It indicated that the system is being held hostage by the CLONE in order to provide shelter for their leaders. The Chancellor seemed as surprised as we are to receive the information but further communication with intelligence in the area has confirmed movement in the system which would point to a CLONE presence there.”  
“Thank you, Anakin,” conceded Mace, like him wishing also to reach a conclusion. “Your point is well made, however, we must tread carefully. It could be another trap to divide our forces."  
"We must be careful," insisted Master Koth, "a partial message conveniently delivered into the Chancellor's hands is not enough evidence."  
“But it is better than no evidence,” pressed Anakin, a little too harshly. “The High Command agree that it is dangerous to delay. By the time we act on this information, Grievous may have already become aware of the leak and left the system.”  
“I agree with General Skywalker,” said Sasee Tinn. “Surely it is better to send a small force in error then send none at all?”  
“And if he is not there, what then?” worried Master Koth, alarmed at the martial spirit exhibited by some Jedi. “It would be a terrible waste of resources!”  
Angry debate erupted again; with a sigh Mace glanced across at Obi-wan, who exchanged a look of embittered patience. They were going round in circles. In the end, once the bickering had run its course, Mace suggested that they put the motion to the vote. Should they accept the intelligence from the Chancellor’s office? The Council concurred. Once the vote had been taken it emerged, by a tiny majority of one vote, that the Council was prepared to accept the intelligence that Grievous was on Utapau. Relief swept round the chamber in the advent that a decision had finally been made. The next decision loomed – did the Council agree with the High Command’s choice of leaders? There was another tense moment of anxious debate; with many Jedi scattered across the Galaxy on campaign and the growing concerns about security on Coruscant as relations with the Senate became increasingly strained, it was not wise to leave the Temple without adequate protection.  
“We cannot afford to send both Skywalker and Kenobi to lead this mission,” said Ki ali mundi, looking up from the holopad in his hand. "There are few enough of us left here as it is."  
There were murmurs around the room and it was an anxious moment for Anakin; who would they choose between him and Obi-wan? Already he knew the answer would only lead to disappointment.  
"The Council has always retained five members on Coruscant; this would take our number down to four. It is unprecedented."  
“It leaves us vulnerable,” cried Master Koth, “the Dark side is already gaining strength as the Jedi Order diminishes. We must maintain a sufficient force here on Coruscant.”  
“It would be sufficient for one Jedi to lead the campaign,” suggested Anakin, “Grievous is good at running away but will be no match for a Jedi Master.”  
“But we must prevent another catastrophe like Deyer,” said Obi-wan, referring to the Chancellor’s kidnap, “we cannot go unprepared.”  
“Then we are agreed,” replied Ki ali mundi, “that only one Jedi can be assigned to this mission.” Murmurs of agreement echoed around the chamber, “Then I suggest Obi-wan Kenobi be given priority, he has no pressing reasons to remain on Coruscant.”  
Although the Jedi Master did not look directly at him (since his mission was only known to three Jedi Masters present), Anakin knew that his mission for the Council must take precedence. Morosely he said, “I agree, General Kenobi should go.”   
After a show of hands, Mace Windu nodded, “Then we are all agreed, given our limited resources Master Kenobi should lead the assignment to Utapau.”  
Surprised at the speed at which his nomination had been secured, Obi-wan could only say, “This is an expected honour.” He was also surprised that Anakin has agreed so readily, but then he also knew that the young man’s hands were tied.  
“Very well, Council is adjourned,” said Mace Windu, nodding to Obi-wan. “Master Kenobi, I suggest that you go with General Skywalker to request support from High Command as quickly as you are able. As we know from previous attempts, Grievous will be well guarded.”

“Anakin, wait for me!” Obi-wan ran after his friend, who had left the Council chamber as soon as the meeting was over on some unknown mission of his own.  
The young man stopped abruptly in the corridor and turned to his friend. “What is it?”  
“I just wanted to make sure that you are alright with the Council’s decision,” he said, seeing in Anakin’s expression that he was right to be concerned, “I know how much you wanted to get away from Coruscant.”  
“I’m disappointed,” admitted Anakin, “the Council knows that my strengths lie in combat and on the battlefield, not subterfuge and deception. But I know my mission must take precedence, if that’s what you are worried about.”  
“No one doubts your ability, Anakin,” sighed Obi-wan. He was worried, convinced that the assignments he had been given were changing the young Jedi; he was chafing against the demands of the Council on one hand and the demands of the Chancellor on the other. And he knew that Anakin, who he had always known to be unfailingly honest, hated the deception he must maintain. “If you are finding things difficult you must tell the Council.”  
“What, and have them proved correct? That I am not worthy of sitting on the Council?” Anakin glared at him, all his resentment suddenly boiling inside him.  
Taking his arm, Obi-wan steered the Jedi away from the curious ears of passing comrades, “I want you to go and calm down. For all our sakes, but for your sake especially.”  
Unable to look him in the eye, Anakin breathed deeply, running his hands nervously through his hair. He knew he was on edge, his temper becoming more and more difficult to control, every perceived slight preying on his mind. “I’m sorry Obi-wan, things… have been getting difficult lately.”  
“I know,” said Obi-wan, seeing Master Windu coming down the stairs towards them, “but they are not about to get any easier. If you are finding it hard to cope then there are exercises we can do together.”  
“Yes, Master.” His voice was flat, knowing that he had tried all number of exercises but none had yet brought serenity to his mind.  
“I have to talk to Master Windu first; I’ll meet you at the office of the High Command in two hours?”  
“Yes, I’ll be there.” As Obi-wan went to meet Master Windu, he turned on his heel and left the corridor.

Later, the preparations for his assignment in place, Obi-wan found that he had a couple of spare hours to kill. He had seen Anakin earlier at the High Command; the young man had promised to see him later that day before he left for Utapau. However thirty minutes before, a garbled message over his wristband had told him that Anakin would be delayed at the Chancellor’s office and would not make it until late afternoon, just before Obi-wan was about to leave. Instead, Anakin promised to meet him at the landing platform. As he listened to the message a small thought slipped into Obi-wan’s mind that the Chancellor was competing for Anakin’s attentions. But that was preposterous. Wasn’t it? He needed a second opinion; he knew his own judgement of the situation was clouded. Obi-wan decided to go and visit the only other person that he knew was as close to Anakin as he was. Maybe closer.

Turning back to the young man, the Chancellor poured some more of the amber liquid from the jug into his glass, filling it up. “I am sorry to hear that the Council has decided against my suggestion. However, I hope Anakin that you do not mind if I say that I am actually pleased by their decision?”  
“I do not understand, your Excellency?”  
“Perhaps it is very selfish of me, but I am very happy that you will remain on Coruscant.” Taking a seat, back behind his desk, the Chancellor looked at him with fatherly concern. “The Republic not only needs your help, it needs your protection. The Council are doing the right thing in sending Kenobi in your stead; whilst I see that he has all the makings of a fine Jedi, only one with the knowledge and ability that you have can serve the Order, Senate and Executive together.” For a moment the Chancellor regarded Anakin before continuing, “However, sometimes the decisions of the Council baffle me. Tell me honestly, why do you feel that the Order refused to confer upon you the title of Master?”  
“Because of my relationship with your Excellency,” said Anakin, his disappointment and anger with the Council encouraging him, conversely, to be more honest with the Chancellor. “The Council were making a point against what they see as interference.”  
Palpatine nodded eagerly. “I had feared as much and I can only apologise for placing you in this untenable position. I believed I was doing what was best for the Republic.”   
“It is not the whole Council,” continued the young man, feeling that he should be careful not to censure all his comrades, “Masters Windu, Ki ali Mundi and Kenobi were supportive of my appointment and wished to allow my election. However, it was blocked by Master Koth and his supporters.”  
“Master Koth?” The Chancellor looked confused, “I don’t recognise…”  
“You wouldn’t,” explained Anakin, playing with his glass, “he is the acknowledged leader of the Evangelicals and is quite happy for the Jedi to moulder away inside the Temple, practising the mysteries of the Force but doing nothing useful in the outside world. I cannot remember the last time I saw him leave the Temple.”  
If the Chancellor was amused by the young man’s resentment, he did not show it. Instead he said very seriously, “Anakin, I believe that you should be wary of what Jedi like Master Koth are up to. I have heard reports that some Jedi, unknown to us, have been trying to strike a deal with some Senators to join together to remove me, the democratically elected leader of the Republic, and replace me with one of their own. I am working hard to find out who these Jedi are. Is there anything that you have noticed which would help me uncover this plot?”  
“I have not been aware of any such plots, your Grace,” said Anakin honestly, “however, if I do suspect anything I will let you know immediately.”  
“Good, good,” sighed the Chancellor, “I am pleased to have you on my side, Anakin. Sometimes I feel that the very principles that have upheld the Republic for centuries are under threat from the very institutions that are meant to protect them.”   
With a start, Anakin was reminded of Padmé’s words to him before the tragedy that had engulfed them.  
The Chancellor must have seen his confusion; indicating to Anakin that he should join him, Palpatine went over to the window. Together both men, the young Jedi and the elder statesman, looked out across the seething city to the serene Jedi Temple, a squat shape on the horizon.  
“The Jedi have been worried for many years that their grip on power is failing,” the Chancellor continued, “Did you think it was just a coincidence that a Jedi was behind the formation of the army?”   
“Yes, but it was found to be Dooku masquerading as his dead comrade,” responded Anakin, confused as to what the Chancellor was trying to tell him. “It is the Sith that are behind this war.”  
Palpatine looked at him sombrely, “So the Council have told you. But Anakin, have you ever stopped to wonder why amongst all our democratic institutions the Jedi continue to exist? You are taught to be introspective and isolated from the outside world; it is only the war that has forced the Order to take a prominent role in Republic affairs. In reality, they have no idea what the citizens of the Republic think of them, or even attempt to understand those that they have sworn to protect. Indeed, I often feel sorry for you Anakin, to think that you have been a slave all your life.”  
“A slave?” Anakin shook his head, “You are wrong, your Excellency, Master Qui-Gon took me away from all that; he gave me a chance which no-one else could have.”  
“I pity you Anakin,” said the Chancellor sympathetically, seemingly not listening to him, “they have trained you so well that you do not even notice that you are still a slave, a slave to the Jedi Order…”  
“Maybe it looks like that to someone who is not a Jedi,” insisted Anakin, wondering why he felt the need to justify everything, “but I chose to train, I chose to follow the Code. Master Obi-wan has not forced it upon me.”  
“But did Qui-Gon not free you?”  
“Yes.” A cold breeze whispered in his heart.  
“Then if you had not chosen to be trained don’t you think you would have felt ungrateful after all that trouble he went too?”  
“That is one way of looking at it,” began Anakin, echoes of another conversation over ten years ago coming back to him, “but…”  
“Do you still feel that you chose to be a Jedi of your own free will?” said the Chancellor quietly. “Do we ever choose anything of our free will? Do we do things because we feel we should do them or because we have to do them to satisfy someone else?” The Chancellor sighed, seemingly oblivious to the effect he was having on the young man beside him. “There are many things about the Jedi that puzzle me greatly, for instance not being able to have any attachments outside the Order.”  
Anakin struggled with his thoughts, knowing that he was on dangerous ground here. Palpatine seemed less and less like a disinterested politician each second, just as Obi-wan had warned him. “Attachments are akin to possession which can lead to greed, an attribute we strive to avoid.”  
“But I see it from a different perspective,” said the Chancellor carefully, “to me it is another way of keeping power for themselves. They can keep a hold on the Jedi's mind that way; there are no competing allegiances. Look at all the trouble that you have experienced simply because I wished to nurture your talent and energies for the Republic, not merely for the Order.”  
“Yes, I have been warned that my relationship with you clouds my allegiance to the Order.” The words left his lips before he could quell them.  
“Has it Anakin? Why have you not told me this before?” The Chancellor suddenly looked very concerned.  
“I only suspected before,” said Anakin uneasily. He stopped, unsure how to continue.  
Palpatine seemed to consider this information. “No wonder they refused to grant you the title of Master, it is their way of snubbing me through you, a very cruel position for you to be in. As you can see, I am unable to rely on the Jedi for anything.”  
“I am not sure that I understand your meaning, your Excellency.” He was suddenly more interested in the activity on the streets outside.  
“I suspect the Jedi want to remove me from office and wrest control of the Republic,” said the Chancellor bluntly. “I know that they do not agree with my handling of the war, and their refusal to participate in the usual organs of democracy suggests that they do not, as they profess, have much respect for the structures and ideals of the Republic.”  
Startled out of his complacency, Anakin suddenly realised how deep the mistrust was on either side. “It may seem that way, your Excellency, but I assure you…”  
“Anakin, search your feelings,” interrupted the Chancellor, his eyes piercing the young man’s, “You know, don't you?”  
If he had to be honest, “I know they don't trust you.”  
“Or the Senate or the Republic for that matter… the very ideals for which we have fought to retain during this terrible crisis. Have you no awareness of this, Anakin?”  
“I admit my trust in them has been shaken.”  
“Why? What is it Anakin? Have they asked you to do something that you are not comfortable with?”  
Anakin said nothing, but he was unable to control his feelings as well as he wanted. There was a weight on his mind, as though something had crept in there and was searching for information.  
“I can see that they have. They asked you to… spy on me didn’t they?” Palpatine placed a hand softly on his shoulder, felt the young man flinch. “I am so sorry, I have failed you Anakin. I thought that by ensuring you were on the Council they would begin to trust you not exploit your relationship with me to their own advantage.”  
“It is my own fault,” said Anakin, wondering how the Chancellor could have suspected the truth, wondering if his own emotions had given him away. “They are unsure of me, and I only have myself to blame for that.” But even he couldn’t hide the fact he did feel exploited, they only wanted him on the Council to serve their own ends… and if they could be devious in that respect then what the Chancellor was saying could indeed be possible. But he had to remember that the Chancellor had more or less asked him the same thing. Neither side was blameless.  
Palpatine smiled unhappily. “They have indoctrinated you well, Anakin, how long I have wanted to say that to you! But, come, we have much to discuss. Tarkin will be waiting for us.”

Wondering if he had made the right decision, Obi-wan was emitted into Senator Amidala’s clean and spacious apartments. Her droid, Threepio, had tried to dissuade him from visiting but he had been politely insistent and eventually he was allowed to wait in the reception area. Yet he had been there for a while and he was beginning to think that maybe Padmé did not want to see him or else she was indisposed. However, finally a door at the end of the room opened and the Senator emerged.  
“Master Kenobi, what a lovely surprise.” Hurriedly she came over to meet him, “I am so sorry to have kept you waiting.”  
“It was no matter, my lady.” Not having seen her for a while, Obi-wan was struck by how unwell Padmé looked. She seemed to have lost weight and her skin was pale, almost translucent, against the intensity of the green velvet dress she wore. Her eyes were huge, shadowed with the tell-tale lack of sleep. “I am only glad that you agreed to see me. It has been such long time!”  
“It has.” Padmé sat down on the couch, arranging her trailing skirts so she could sit comfortably. “Would you like some tea?”  
“Yes please,” replied Obi-wan, taking a seat next to her. Underneath her politeness, he could sense she was nervous but then it was not usual for a Jedi to pay a social visit.  
Padmé poured the tea from the pot into the cup; her hands were shaking and she spilt most of the tea onto the saucer. “Oh dear,” she said, flustered, using a cloth to wipe the mess away.  
“Do not worry my lady,” said Obi-wan gently, “no need to be on ceremony for me.”  
Pouring more carefully, Padmé smiled to hide her discomfort. “How can I help you Master Kenobi?”  
Taking the cup gratefully, Obi-wan sipped his tea. “I was wondering if Anakin had been to see you.”  
“Not for a while.” She scratched her wrist nervously. “The last I heard was that he had been appointed to the Jedi Council. It must have been a great honour for him.”  
“It was, and he deserves it.”  
“Master Kenobi, may I be frank? Is something troubling you about Anakin?”  
“Did anyone ever tell you that you should be a Jedi?” As much as he distrusted politicians in general he had always had a soft spot for the insightful Padmé.  
“Yes, Master Qui-Gon actually,” she managed a smile, remembering the kindly Jedi Master. “But then you are not exactly trying hard to hide your feelings are you, Master Kenobi?”  
“You’re right.” He settled back onto the couch, relieved to share his concerns with someone at long last. He sighed, “Ever since we’ve returned to Coruscant, Anakin has been moody, irritable, detached even. It has become worse with his appointment to the Council; it was only because of his appointment to the High Command on the instigation of Chancellor Palpatine that he was admitted to the Council at all. As you can imagine, he has been put in a very difficult position.”  
“Forgive me,” said Padmé, unsure if she had heard him correctly. “Are you saying that Anakin is only sitting on the Council because of his relationship with Palpatine?”  
“Yes.” If it seemed that way to Padmé, who Obi-wan knew had a soft spot for Anakin, no wonder the Council were suspicious.  
“I see,” Padmé was disturbed and upset that Anakin had neglected to mention this, “I knew that the Chancellor had taken personal control of communication with the Jedi Order but I did not think he was trying to influence its decisions.”  
“So you think Anakin is open to being influenced by the Chancellor?”  
Realising her mistake, Padmé knew she must be honest. “I am concerned that Anakin has come under the influence of the Chancellor ever since he first came to Coruscant. He takes a remarkable interest in him.”  
“So you have also noticed this?” confirmed Obi-wan, “what does Anakin think?”  
“I don’t know,” was all Padmé could say. It was the truth after all. “Anakin has said very little to me about his relationship with the Chancellor.”  
“I see.” This was a revelation to the Jedi Master. “So he hasn’t confided in you?”  
“No, why would he?” She was trying hard not to appear defensive but the remark slipped out.  
Obi-wan looked at her searchingly, “Padmé, I know how he feels about you.”  
She looked back, nervously. “Master Kenobi, Anakin is and always has been a very good friend of mine.”  
“It’s more than that though isn’t it?” pressed Obi-wan gently.  
Agitated, Padmé got up from the couch, her mind in turmoil. Hadn’t Anakin once told her that Obi-wan knew about them? She couldn’t remember. To say nothing meant to confirm his suspicions but to lie would only make matters worse. Besides, she knew with Anakin that it was almost impossible to lie successfully to a Jedi.  
Obi-wan watched her go to the window, “Padmé, I do not want to hurt Anakin or you. I only want to get to the bottom of why he is so troubled.” Faced with her continued silence, he added, “You forget I know you both well. Anakin did not make his feelings a secret when you first met and although Master Qui-Gon and I thought it merely an infatuation it is more than that isn’t it?”  
Padmé still could not answer. She was worried she might confess everything and then how could she explain it to Anakin?  
“But I am not here to criticise you Padmé, I am worried about Anakin. He is toiling under an inordinate amount of stress, not least his relationship with the Chancellor which brings him into conflict with the Order. And considering your opposition to the Senate and bureaucracy, into conflict with you too?”  
Close to tears, Padmé nodded dumbly. It was so perceptive, something that she had not ever dared admit to herself. That she was, naively, partially responsible for Anakin’s stress and potentially complicit in his disgrace because a Jedi was not supposed to have such attachments as they had.  
Seeing her distress, Obi-wan’s heart went out to the young girl. She loved the wayward Jedi as much, maybe more than he did, but he knew that between them, she and Anakin were not making life very easy for themselves. “Padmé, I won’t tell a soul about any of this. Believe me, I care about both of you very much. I want to help you.”  
Feeling bewildered, Padmé sat back down on the couch. “I want to help him, but I don’t know how.” She put her face in her hands as the tears began to escape, her shoulders shaking with the effort of keeping her emotions at bay. “He won’t let me.”   
Gently, awkwardly, Obi-wan put his arm about her shoulders, seeking to soothe her. “It would help if you could try to find out what he is chafing against. I sense that things are getting too much for him.” Yet he wondered if Padmé was the right person, she seemed haunted by something… maybe things were getting too much for her as well?  
“All he told me,” she said, in-between sobs of breath as the tears once more threatened to engulf her, “was...”  
“It’s okay Padmé,” soothed Obi-wan, “take your time.”  
“No I must,” wiping her eyes determinedly she told him about her argument with Anakin, keeping the details sketchy and devoid of certain key details, whilst the Jedi Master listened silently, a slight widening of his eyes the only indication that her words had unsettled him.  
“I am sorry to hear this,” sighed Obi-wan; he was aware that he was keeping many details absent from the Senator for fear of upsetting her further. “And it will not make my suggestion an easy one but I was wondering if you might do something for me?”  
“What do you ask?”  
“I will shortly be leaving Coruscant. I was wondering if you might keep an eye on the relationship between Anakin and the Chancellor for me?” When she looked at him in surprise, he continued, “At least until I return. Then together we can perhaps find a way to bring back the Anakin we know and love.”  
Pulling herself together, Padmé wiped her eyes. Already she was drowning in obligations but she could not desert Anakin. “I will.”  
“If we are patient he will come back, I am sure of it,” said Obi-wan, touching her cheek fondly. “In the meanwhile, keep well Padmé.”  
“Thank you, Master Kenobi.”  
“And above all, please be careful. I am not convinced that the Chancellor has Anakin’s best interests at heart. Bear in mind everything that I have told you.”  
Taking his leave, the Jedi left the frightened Senator alone on the sofa. She stayed there a moment, breathing deeply to try to calm herself. Despite the fear of upsetting Anakin, she felt better for having spoken to Obi-wan. Although they had not arrived at a solution, at least she knew she was not the only one to have noticed Anakin’s increasingly troubled behaviour. A way to bring back the Anakin we know and love - the Jedi’s calm tones echoed in her mind and she wondered how she could have ever felt that she could do this alone. The support of Obi-wan gave her the small sliver of optimism she so badly needed.  
From the hallway came the clatter of feet; the gentle murmur of voices. She must have been sat there for a while; the tea had developed a skin.  
“Mistress Padmé,” announced Threepio, entering the room. Immediately he noticed the disordered table, the split tea and half-empty cups. “Oh dear. Are you all right my lady? Only the Senators are here for their meeting. Shall I bring them in? Or shall I…”  
With a start, Padmé remembered, “Oh, no bring them in Threepio, I had quite forgot.” As Threepio scurried back to the hallway, Padmé tided away the cold remains of the tea, asking Dormé to make a fresh pot, just in time for Threepio to bring in the first guests.  
By the time everyone was finally present, Padmé was feeling more settled. As well as Mon Mothma and Bail Organa, her living room contained other senators disgruntled with the present regime. Threepio fussed about, getting drinks and snacks for the guests, while they discussed what they should do to overturn the steady erosion of their Republic.  
“We cannot let this turn into another war,” said Padmé firmly.  
“Absolutely, that is the last thing we want.” Mon Mothma smoothed her russet hair beneath her plain white cap, “the Alliance will bring peace, not more warfare.”  
“We must ensure that we obtain the support of the majority of the Senate in order to be effective against the Chancellor and the bureaucracy,” pointed out Chi Eekway, “they have the army behind them.”  
“Yes, we need more support,” said Padmé quickly, “we cannot hope to win all systems to our side and there are not enough of us to effect change on a large scale.”  
“Who would you suggest?”  
“I have heard that the Jedi Council are as concerned with the state of affairs as we are,” began Padmé carefully, knowing that feelings were running high about the Jedi as well as the Chancellor, “I know a Jedi I feel it would be wise to consult…”   
“Absolutely not,” said Bree Breemu, shaking his head vigorously, “that would be dangerous in the current climate.”   
“I know there are rumours Padmé, but to be honest we don't know where the Jedi stand in all this. They can be very secretive.”  
Padmé tried another tactic. “I only wish to discuss this with one Jedi I trust.”   
“I agree. Going against the Chancellor without the support of the Jedi is risky,” nodded Giddean Danu, “and they will be useful allies. They are committed to the survival of the Republic as are we.”  
“But the Chancellor has taken direct control of the Jedi Council,” continued Bree, whose own thoughts on the matter represented most of the Senators in relation to the Jedi. “They are answerable only to him now. How can we trust them?”  
“Believe me,” replied Padmé passionately, “the Jedi aren't any happier with the situation than we are.” Apart from one said a little voice inside her head. Stunned by the revelation she paused and a small pang that felt like betrayal stung her heart.  
“For many years now the Jedi have become stagnant as a force within the Galaxy,” said Zang Far as her silence continued to hang in the air. “Although there are undoubtedly brave Jedi amongst them and I agree that there are some that may be useful to allay ourselves with but at present we have two thousand Senators on our side. Surely that will persuade the Chancellor that our demands should be considered?”  
“I think it would only make our situation stronger,” insisted Padmé, “They supported us in the absence of the Chancellor.”  
“Yes but they have been silent ever since except to withdraw themselves further from the war effort,” said Bree, feeling that Padmé had good intentions but was himself too uncertain about the Jedi to want to commit to an alliance with them. “General Skywalker has good relations with the Senate and the Executive but he is too young to have much influence.”   
It took all the young senator’s strength not to dispute this observation; after all she was not much older than Anakin and look at all she had achieved! Still, it was not the time for a dispute so she endured Giddean Danu’s gentle pat upon her hand.   
“Let us wait until you present the petition to the Chancellor,” he said soothingly, “build our momentum first and then approach the Jedi. We will be in a better position if we have some success on our side.”   
“I see your point,” was all she said, glancing with frustration at Senator Organa.  
Seeing that they would only reach a stalemate, Bail decided that for the moment they should steer a middle course. “Is it agreed? Let us see what we can accomplish in the Senate, before we include the Jedi.”  
Downcast, Padmé sipped her tea quietly, barely listening to the chatter around her, only wondering how she was going to continue to keep her involvement in the Alliance a secret from Anakin.  
***  
Landing platform 6677-99 was busy with activity, overlooking the docking bay where thousands of troops were being loaded onto a Republic assault ship. Aides were running everywhere, ensuring that weapons were loaded to the correct storage compartment, along with all other necessary aspects of Galactic warfare. Standing above all the mayhem was Obi-wan, thinking about the mission that lay ahead. He was completely calm, unlike Anakin, who was still highly strung after his meeting with the Chancellor.   
“The High Command has made sure that you will have the best troops available for your mission,” said the younger man, his enthusiasm in the campaign waning since the Council, and even the Chancellor, seemed determined to exclude him from it.  
Obi-wan nodded. “Thank you Anakin. Maybe it will turn out to be some wild bantha chase and then the Council will have to agree to us both going together next time.”  
“I hope so.”  
Picking up his pack, Obi-wan held out his hand. He had to trust that Anakin would manage without him; but he would not be alone. Hopefully Padmé would be a stabilising influence in his absence.  
“Goodbye Master, may the Force be with you.” Anakin could not help sounding deflated, although he knew it was nothing to do with Obi-wan.  
“I will be with you in spirit, Anakin. I do not like this anymore than you do.”  
Faced with the calm acceptance of his Master, Anakin was reminded of how petty he was acting. “Master, please forgive me,” he said, taking the proffered hand gladly, “I don’t want us to part like this.”  
“Anakin, I’m aware of the strain you are under…”  
“But I have disappointed you, you cannot deny that.” He didn’t want Obi-wan to leave thinking that he was ignorant of how much suffering he had put him through. “I have acted like an idiot. I’ve not always been very appreciative of your training. I have been arrogant; I have placed us in unnecessary danger. I have…”  
“Alright, alright,” said Obi-wan, chuckling at the catalogue of mistakes being presented to him. But there was a brightness in his voice that had been missing for so long, the Anakin that Obi-wan liked to see.  
“I wish you were not leaving Master,” continued Anakin, determined to finish. “Your friendship means everything to me and I want to prove that to you.”  
Tears in his eyes, Obi-wan embraced the younger Jedi closely. “You don’t have to prove anything, Anakin. And enough of this criticism! It is not an exaggeration on my part to say that you have grown from a very promising young man ...”  
“Master, please,” growled Anakin, not convinced that he deserved any eulogies however spontaneous they were.  
“No Anakin, let me finish,” re-joined his friend, determined to tell him what was in his heart. “You are a powerful Jedi, strong in the Force and wise beyond your years, and I am very proud of you. There is nothing more I can teach you, Anakin; you have become a far greater Jedi than I could ever hope to be... and saved my life more times than I can remember!”   
“All because of your training,” the younger Jedi was equally determined to play down Obi-wan’s praise, no longer convinced that he deserved it.  
“Come Anakin, this modesty does not suit you.” Despite his best attempts Anakin was once more closed to him. Maybe there was still one thing preying on the young man’s mind? “But patience, Anakin. It won't be long before the Council makes you a Jedi Master. With time I am certain that they will come to trust you.”  
“Thank you.” It was not what he wanted any more. He had transcended that disappointment.  
“Goodbye old friend.” Obi-wan waved cheerily as he headed up the ramp into the waiting battle cruiser.  
Not for the first time, Anakin wished that he was going with him. He didn’t want to be left on Coruscant alone. The atmosphere of the city oppressed him; he longed for the open freedom of space. “Take care of yourself, Master, you better come back in one piece.” Beneath the superficial cheerfulness, Anakin’s heart was breaking.  
“Don’t worry about me,” laughed Obi-wan, turning back to his friend, “thanks to you I have enough troops with me to take three systems the size of Utapau! May the Force be with you.”  
“May the Force be with you, Obi-wan,” said Anakin, watching as his friend, with one last wave, disappeared into the Republic cruiser. There were tears in his eyes.

******  
It was very late by the time Anakin made his way to Padmé’s apartment at the end of a long day. Not only had he been forced to say good-bye to Obi-wan but there had been the usual turmoil of a session in the Senate to follow, an afternoon of fractious debate. Afterwards, the Chancellor had made some unexpected and disturbing inferences about Obi-wan, repeating the preposterous suggestion made by an imbecile that his mind had been affected by the attentions of an attractive Senator, which Palpatine felt was his duty to bring to his attention. Whilst the Chancellor had assured him that it was merely idle gossip, however he had reminded the young Jedi unhelpfully that “there is very rarely smoke without fire.” Far worse was having to endure Senator Amidala giving an impassioned speech in Congress that evening against the continued pursuit of war that only served to augment his fears that she no longer supported the Republic he had so bitterly fought for, indeed, had almost died for. The culmination of these events, additional to the usual stresses and strains associated with the precariousness of his position, left him feeling dispirited as well as tired and as soon as he could, he slipped away.  
Unfortunately he was to find no relief from the atmosphere in Padmé’s apartments; it seemed as tense to him as it had been in the Senate. The Senator had not yet returned from a late evening meeting but Corday let him in and, after exchanging superficial pleasantries, she left him to wait alone in the living area whilst she fetched some refreshments. As he waited, he wandered about here and there, unwittingly feeling the ghostly tendrils of other individuals who had been there before him. He wondered whom Padmé had been entertaining. However, there was another presence; one that he recognised immediately.  
The door slid open, distracting his concentration and he turned round to see who was entering. It was Padmé; she was talking to someone behind her, instructing them to bring “the one that I completed yesterday.” As she came further into the room, she noticed Anakin standing by one of the pillars and stopped abruptly. “Oh, it’s you.” For a moment she just looked at him blankly.  
“Nice to see you too,” said Anakin, feeling his spirits sink even lower. She seemed less than pleased to see him.  
“I didn’t expect to see you here.” She seemed flustered, turned to the handmaiden waiting patiently behind her. “We’ll do it later, Elle.”  
The handmaiden understood as soon as she saw Anakin waiting inside, “Of course. Let me know if you need anything else, my lady.”  
“I will. Thank you.”  
Coming into the room, Padmé noticed that Anakin looked upset. Depositing a kiss on his cheek she said, “I thought you were busy tonight?”  
“I had some free time,” he said softly, but his eyes remained troubled. “I thought I’d come and see you.”  
She caught the edge to his words, wondered what it meant. “That’s very sweet of you,” she tried to keep cheerful, “but I need to sort out some things. I can’t really…”  
“That’s alright,” he replied, his suspicions hardly abated by her evasive behaviour. He went over to the couch. “You’ll hardly notice I’m here.”  
“Oh, sure.” Remembering Obi-wan’s words, Padmé reasoned that he was under pressure - he was not himself. “I just be in there,” she added, pointing to the door that led into her study.  
Anakin remained silent on the couch as she disappeared, idly looking at a holopad detailing the recent changes to the constitution. But he wasn’t really concentrating. The presence he had sensed earlier was preying on his mind. He felt its whispers on the couch, very close, too close perhaps to another presence he recognised. Sensing the traces of their conversation, he came to understand that they had been sitting close, close enough to touch… “Has Obi-wan been here?” he asked her, as she crossed the apartment on her way back towards the hallway.  
“Yes he came by this morning.”  
As she passed behind him, with uncanny accuracy Anakin reached out and grabbed her hand, bringing her to a sudden halt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”  
“I haven’t seen you to tell you,” she said calmly; the thought crossed her mind I didn’t know I had to...  
What was she hiding from him? “What did he want?”   
“He was worried about you.” She heard the suspicion in his voice, felt the increasing pressure on her fingers.  
“And what did you tell him?”  
“Nothing.” Annoyed that he was questioning her intentions, Padmé extracted herself from his grip and continued towards the hall. “Nothing that he didn’t already know.”  
Getting up, he trailed after her. “He told you something didn’t he? Something that has upset you.”   
Turning to face him she sighed deeply. “He told me that it was the Chancellor who appointed you to the Council.” She looked at him with concern, “Which you could have told me.”  
“He didn’t appoint me exactly,” chastened, he tried to fudge the issue, “it was through my appointment to the High Command.”  
“Which was instigated by the Chancellor,” she added for him.  
“It’s not important.”  
“It is important if the Chancellor is taking control of areas outside his usual jurisdiction,” she protested.  
“Because of the needs of the war,” interjected Anakin, realising they were close to arguing a microcosm of that day’s debate and already tired of doing so. “Anyway we were talking about Obi-wan.”  
“So we were,” she muttered, unusually bitterly. Then she immediately regretted her mood and sought to dispel the bad feeling developing between them, “There is nothing to be suspicious about. He cares about you.”  
“I wasn’t suspicious,” he complained, playing with a loose thread on his cuff, “I was just wondering what was so difficult that he had to come to see you rather than tell me.”   
“It’s not so easy to talk to you at the moment,” she said gently and, seeing that he understood, she continued, “He knows you’re under a lot of stress.”  
“Everyone is under a lot of stress at the moment,” replied Anakin, coming close to where she stood by the gauzy curtain, the lights of the window behind plunging his face into dark shadows.  
Exasperated, Padmé took his hands, “We’re talking about you not everyone else. And Obi-wan is not the only one who is worried about you; you’ve been so moody lately…”  
“I’m not moody,” he snapped defensively, pulling his hands from her grasp roughly, “and you’re as bad as Obi-wan, always making assumptions and not even asking…”  
He was turning away but she took his arm, “Listen to yourself! If you keep on hiding things from me and Obi-wan, we can’t…”  
“Was it is with all this ‘we’ all of a sudden?” scoffed Anakin, wrenching his arm from her grasp and turning to face her, “you and Obi-wan?”  
“We care about you!” She shuddered to see him so angry, he seemed to lose all sense of perspective.  
“Are you sure?” His lip curled with menace, unwanted thoughts crowding inside his head, “are you sure it’s me you care about?”  
“What do you mean?” Puzzled she went to touch his shoulder but he only pushed her away roughly.  
“You know what I mean,” he growled, already his vision was blurring as the heat overcame him, turning the seeds of idle thoughts planted into stems of unreason.  
“No I don’t,” she protested, stubbornly refusing to let him think the worst of her, “and I’m not going to stand here having you accuse me...”   
“I’m not accusing you of anything!” shouted Anakin, seeing only guilt in her intransigence, “it’s written all over your apartment!”  
“Then show me!” Before he could anticipate her action, she had grabbed his arm and forced him back into the living space, only to find Corday was quietly laying out the cups and plates. Seeing her mistress enter, stony-faced, dragging the unwilling Jedi behind her, however, was enough to send the handmaiden scurrying away without having to be asked.   
“Where is it then? This evidence?” She looked at him in askance.  
It was ridiculous to even begin to explain to her the naivety of her suggestion but he said, “It’s in the company you keep, Padmé.” Pulling away from her, he gestured with his arms expansively towards the sofa. “Insurgents, rebels, whatever you want to call them; those who would seek to bring down the Republic on the flimsiest of evidence. They’ve been here, I can sense them.”  
“I had a meeting with some senators if that’s what you mean,” she said defensively, folding her arms. “It’s my apartment; I’ll invite whom I choose.”  
“So you’re happy to associate with a dangerous minority...”  
“Some of those you call a ‘dangerous minority’ happen to be some of my dearest friends.”  
“Then how come you have never introduced me to these friends of yours?”  
“You know why,” finally Padmé dropped her hostility, tired and wishing their fight to come to an end, “Anakin please...”  
“Don’t you see what this means?” Anakin was sensitive to her change in tone, seeing his opportunity to appeal to her desire to make peace between them. “Whether or not you ally yourself to these... friends of yours formally, merely to associate with them is dangerous in the present climate.”   
“So you’re saying that I cannot see whom I like?”   
“Yes.”  
It was preposterous and she told him so in no uncertain terms.  
“So, you want the suspicion in which they are held to reflect on you?” Anakin was incredulous, “you’re already under suspicion because of the actions of the Provisional Government.”  
“Who holds them in suspicion?” she snapped, “the Chancellor?” When he remained silent, she blurted out, “Then I hardly care what he thinks.”  
“You should do.” Calmly, he came over to where she stood and placed his hands on her shoulders, feeling how tense they were. “I’m worried about you, Padmé...”  
“Worried about me?” She looked at him in surprise.  
“Yes,” tenderly he placed his hand on her cheek, felt its softness as an antidote to the bile inside. “I’ve heard things.”  
“What things?” she whispered, her heart trembling with the secret knowledge it contained.  
“That your disillusionment with the Chancellor and the Senate is such that you, and your friends, are plotting a way in which to ensure that your desires are met. These are serious charges, Padmé, even if they are only rumours.”  
“I...”, there was a note of authority in his voice which made her cautious. “I admit that I am unhappy with how things are going, but believe me Anakin I have always been honest with you about my feelings.” That at least was true. “I am not involved in anything corrupt, we only want our voice to be heard.”  
“I know, I know.” He stroked her hair rhythmically, his fingers as soothing as his words, “and I will do my best to ignore what people say but it’s getting harder.”   
Although he did not say it, she knew the implication; ‘keep yourself spotless.’ It worried her that despite their best laid plans, some word had obviously got out that there was a growing movement against the Chancellor. It was not completely surprising, however, for he had spies everywhere. It crossed her mind momentarily that Anakin might be one of them... a thought quickly banished as the paranoid anxiety she hoped it was. However, she knew now that she had to be even more careful.  
“It’s strange to think that only a few months ago you were thinking of retiring,” remarked Anakin, as they went over to the couch, ostensibly to have the quiet evening both of them had desired from the start.  
Before she could reply, a loud bleeping from Anakin’s wristband distracted them both.  
“I have to go,” he said blankly, pressing something at his wrist.  
“What is it?”  
“The Chancellor,” was his terse reply.  
“But it’s so late,” she said plaintively. “Couldn’t you ignore your duties for one night?”  
“Not possible, my love.” He could not help think it was unreasonable for her, who was so responsible, so devoted to her own cause, to ask him to ignore a summons.   
“Will you be back?” Still she clutched his hand.  
“If I can.”  
The thought that he was so close to the Chancellor chilled her heart. It reminded her; “Anakin, promise me you’ll be careful.”  
“There’s no need to worry about me, my love.”   
“Promise me, please.” It seemed she would not allow him to leave until he had done so, despite his assurances. So in the end he gave in and only then did she seem content for him to depart. It seemed strange for her to be so demanding and again it crossed his mind - what had Obi-wan told her? Yet there was not time to pursue the matter and after he had kissed her, one last time, he was gone.


	6. Disloyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Delegation of the Two Thousand, which includes Padme Amidala, present their petition to Chancellor Palpatine who is supported, much to Padme's great concern, by Anakin. Palpatine uses the opportunity to plant more seeds of distrust towards her in Anakin's mind. Later, Padme is even more horrified when the Chancellor tells her that he knows about her pregnancy, beginning to wonder if Anakin is unwittingly letting their secrets slip out. 
> 
> The war rumbles on and the Jedi Council are coming round to the idea that the Chancellor and the Senate are purposefully continuing the war rather than trying to end it, perhaps from the influence of the Sith Lord. Anakin overhears a conversation which he shouldn't, making him realise that the Council has not always been honest with him about his relationship to the Chancellor.
> 
> Then, about to go to Leybeya to flush out the CLONE leaders, Anakin finds out that Padme has been arrested...

Dense mists hung over the towering structures of the city as Senator Amidala met with a group of senators outside the entrance to the Chancellor’s palatial office. It had been planned for weeks, the presentation of their petition for improved government of the Republic, and, shivering in the damp air, the young Senator prepared herself for the task ahead. Her disagreement (if that’s what it could be called) with Anakin the previous night had almost prompted her to suspend the meeting but convinced by her supporters that they would not have another opportunity she had agreed to continue as planned. After all it was rare to be able to meet the Chancellor in person; ever since his abduction he had become more detached from everyday politics than ever, often sending lackeys to present him in the Senate (for which an amendment had been made to enable this to happen; it had no precedent). Padmé had been chosen to hand over their petition to Palpatine, based purely on the fact that she had known him for many years. The Senators assumed that he respected her - as a Senator and as a credible politician - and would understand that their concerns were serious. However, Senator Organa was not with them today and in many ways she missed his calm and supportive presence. Ever since he had stepped down from High Command he had uncovered many things that convinced him the continuing war was fuelled by corruption in the Senate rather than the ‘idealistic’ crusade that it had been painted. His home planet of Alderaan had also denounced the war, banishing all their weapons and declaring itself opposed to anything but diplomacy. Not only that, the people were advocating for an end to the Chancellor’s rule. Bail knew now that if he had not already been, he would be under intense scrutiny from the Chancellor and his cronies.  
As they walked along the hallway, Zang Far noticed Senator Amidala was unusually quiet. “How are you feeling?”  
“I am concerned about the Chancellor’s reaction,” replied Padmé quietly, her dark eyes expressionless. She had been up several times in the night to be sick, since then she had been feeling intense stomach cramps, continual nausea. Neither had Anakin returned, much to her despair. Something had remained unresolved between them and it more than added to the distress she suffered. It was the most stressful moment of her life, perhaps ironic for a young woman who had faced assassins, armies and worse besides without visibly flinching.  
“I am certain he will be reasonable,” replied Zang, keeping his voice low. “Remember we can only do the best we can to draw his attentions to these concerns we have.”  
The heavy doors swung open, and Padmé entered, followed by the deputation of braver senators sympathetic to their cause. First, she saw the Chancellor sat behind his huge desk, imposing and stern. Then, as her gaze travelled across the room, she saw, stood slightly to the left of the Chancellor, and to her immediate disconcertion, Anakin Skywalker.  
Stunned, Padmé did not know how she managed to keep on walking, yet somehow she made her way over to the Chancellor’s desk. It was not just the fact it was Anakin stood there to the left hand of Palpatine - that was terrible enough - but it also removed her own certainty about the support of the Jedi in their cause to right the wrongs against the Republic. For Anakin’s presence seemed to confirm Bree Bremu’s suspicions that at least some Jedi supported the martial law, the dictatorship-that-quite-wasn’t…  
“Welcome, Senators,” said the Chancellor warmly in his clear-cut accent. He was the gracious host as always, “Please do come and sit down.”  
As she took her seat, Padmé glanced at Anakin. After their discussion the night before she knew that he would immediately object to her presence there; despite her best efforts she had failed to communicate to him how important it was to her that the real Republic be restored, not the impostor that masqueraded in its place. Now he was looking in front of him resolutely but briefly their eyes met and she saw pain… and confusion.  
“We are concerned that you have called for this meeting,” the Chancellor was saying, “but then we cannot be as complacent to think that our efforts to save the Republic from collapse would not be met with some… disagreement.”  
“We all have our own point of view about the situation, your Excellency,” commented Giddean Danu.  
“As we are only too aware,” replied Palpatine wearily, taking a seat behind his desk. “Please proceed.”  
“Before we begin, may we ask why a Jedi is present?” remarked Zang Far, aware that the Jedi had a reputation as neutral observers. However, Anakin Skywalker was anything but neutral as far as he was concerned.  
“Why of course you may,” replied the Chancellor smoothly, glancing to the young man by his side. “I felt it best to have an observer for the duration of our discussion.” His tone suggested that there would be no argument and indeed, there was no more to be said about Anakin’s presence.  
Nervous but finding a new strength from the hope of having some influence with the Chancellor, Padmé stood up and began to relate to the Chancellor the concerns that the delegation of the two thousand had put their names to. It took her a while, and all that time she was aware of the Chancellor’s eyes burning into her; in fact he never took them off her the entire time she was speaking. And Anakin too… he was looking fixedly at her, his eyes dark shadows, his face a mask to his real feelings.  
Eventually she came to the end of the petition. It was a testament to Padmé’s determination that she coped with the strain; not only from the presence of Anakin and from the hostility of the Chancellor but also physically, her body aching from the prolonged standing and the heavy robes she wore, which were unbearably hot in the stuffy office.  
“Thank you Senator Amidala for being so honest with us,” said Palpatine as she sat down. “We understand your reservations completely, and we can assure you the new powers of the Regional Governors will in no way compete with the duties of our Senators.”  
“May I take it then, that there will be no further amendments to the Constitution?” asked Padmé, idly noticing that he had said our Senators. Was it a mere figure of speech or did it point to something more sinister?  
“We want this terrible conflict to end as much as you do, my lady, and when it does we guarantee an immediate return to our position before this dreadful state of affairs.”  
“You will consider pursuing a diplomatic solution to the war, then,” said Padmé, finally grasping that the Chancellor was not in the mood to make concessions.  
“You saw what happened last time we attempted to negotiate with the CLONE,” remarked the Chancellor, slightly irritated. “You must trust us to act in the proper and appropriate manner for the Republic, Senator Amidala. That is why we are here.”  
Fang Zar looked with concern at Padmé; he had also noticed that there was undercurrent of mood to the superficially agreeable Chancellor, “But surely…”  
“I have said I will do what is right,” snapped the Chancellor in return, the illusion of goodwill finally ruptured. “That should be enough for your… committee.”  
There was nothing more that could be done. Her worst suspicions confirmed by the Chancellor’s barely withheld disgust, Padmé knew that they had to bring the meeting to its conclusion. “On behalf of the Delegation of Two Thousand, I thank you for meeting with us and listening patiently to our petition, Chancellor.”  
The mask of friendliness once more descended. He even smiled at her. “And we thank you for bringing your concerns to our attention, Senator Amidala.”  
Upon his signal, she approached his desk and handed the Chancellor their petition. Beneath the calm visage lurked the strong desire to laugh at the absurdity of her earlier optimism; she should have listened to her suffering stomach.  
“Thank you, Senator,” he said, taking the holopad. For a moment, his cold eyes lingered on her. “Be assured that I will treat this document with the seriousness that it deserves.”  
“Thank you, your Excellency.” Somehow she was not convinced by his words, however it was unfair not to give him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps their former relationship would have some leverage after all. As she left the room with the rest of the Senators, she could not help glancing at Anakin. It was enough to convey to him all her frustration and disappointment yet he revealed nothing of his feelings to her. As the door closed behind her, she wondered what the subsequent conversation would be between the elderly statesman and the young Jedi; would Anakin take her side or, as she feared, would he view her as the Chancellor seemed to, an irritant in their wider schemes?  
Dismissing his attendants, Palpatine sat for a long while, reading through the holopad in silence. Patiently Anakin remained standing by his side, pondering the significance of the meeting. He wondered what Padmé and the Senators had hoped to achieve. They had voted the Chancellor emergency powers and now they were trying to prevent him using them for the good of the Republic.  
“Their sincerity is to be admired at least,” said the Chancellor finally, looking thoughtfully at Anakin. “However, Senator Amidala will be disappointed if she believes that her behaviour will not come under the deepest suspicion from now on.”  
Anakin felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. “I do not understand what you mean, your Excellency. Senator Amidala can be trusted.”  
The Chancellor sighed and placed the holopad upon the desk. “I hope you will let me be frank with you Anakin?”  
“Of course.”  
“Sometimes I think that your fondness for Senator Amidala blinds you to her true intentions. Remember that she, along with the little gang of senators she appears to have surrounded herself with,” his words were laced with bitterness, “had a taste of power whilst I was in captivity.”  
Considering his argument with Padmé the previous evening, Anakin found himself unable to comment.  
Standing up, Palpatine motioned for Anakin to join him over by the window. Below them, under the soft lights of the landing platform, they could see Padmé walking towards a waiting transport, conferring animatedly with Senators Danu and Zar. Even from that height it was evident that she was unhappy.  
“These are unstable times for the Republic, Anakin,” said Palpatine softly, watching his reaction carefully. “As I implied to you only a few days ago, some see instability as an opportunity. I suspect that Senator Amidala, like the Jedi Order, is hiding her true intentions from you.”  
“With respect your Excellency, Senator Amidala’s intentions have never been anything but honourable.” First there had been suspicions about her relationship with Obi-wan; now it seemed Padmé was not only openly aligning herself with subversive influences in the Senate, she was their assumed leader. Feeling his world was even closer to falling apart, Anakin clenched his fingers tight into his hands. No wonder she had grown defensive when he had questioned her and yet she hadn’t told him! It begged the question; what else was she hiding from him?  
“But you do suspect something, don’t you Anakin?” Palpatine’s voice dripped slowly into the young man’s ear, jolting him back to the present.  
“I am confident that Senator Amidala would never consciously betray the Republic,” he replied mechanically.  
“You are very loyal, Anakin, and it does you credit. But you must be careful that your loyalty is not taken advantage of.” Palpatine regarded Anakin, a sympathetic look on his face. “You have known the Senator for a long time, as have I. She has many exceptional qualities that have won her many admirers. However, we both know that she can be stubborn when she does not get her own way, and she is skilled in the art of dissembling, as is any politician.” Pausing, he studied the young man for a moment; noticed how he trembled despite his effort to maintain a cool exterior. “You recognise this too, don’t you Anakin, only you are too kind-hearted to admit it.”  
When Anakin remained silent, Palpatine turned back to watch as the senators far below dispersed. “What is it about Senator Amidala that inspires such feelings? I wonder…”  
“You said it yourself, Senator Amidala is exceptionally gifted,” said the young Jedi, finally finding his tongue, “her dedication and resolve have always inspired others. Including me.”  
“So I did,” the Chancellor smiled at him, “and it is obvious Anakin that you care for her very much.” For a moment he let his words hang in the air, then he moved away from the window. “Then I will give her the benefit of the doubt. I imagine that once she begins to see the war is close to an end, Senator Amidala and her friends will once again be restored to full faith in us. Anyway, we must not let these matters stray us from the real task ahead.”  
At that moment, the communicator on the Chancellor’s desk bleeped loudly. “Excuse me Anakin,” he said leaving the young man by the window, watching his love continuing to discuss something animatedly with the group of senators around her. Surely the Chancellor could not be right about Padmé; that she was part of a plot to take over the Republic and seize control? It seemed as doubtful as the plot by the Jedi Order but then the Chancellor had opened his eyes in some respects, knowing that his strong connection may have blinded him to the truth…  
“Anakin, Anakin!” The Chancellor’s voice broke into his thoughts and he turned back towards the elderly statesman. “I have exciting news! Intelligence may have found the whereabouts of the CLONE leaders!”

By the time Anakin reached Padmé’s apartment block, it was shrouded in darkness. For a while, he lingered on the threshold, wondering if he should disturb her rest. However, his need to be with her was far stronger and so he let himself in and crept to her bedroom, carefully evading the security web which was meant to prevent such actions. Reaching her bed he saw that Padmé was already asleep; he could see the covers rising and falling in time with her breathing. By the time he quickly he undressed and climbed into bed, he heard her stir.  
“Anakin?”  
“Yes, my love.” He hoped she didn’t want to talk about the meeting with the Chancellor; he was not in the mood.  
She turned over, looked at him sleepily. “It’s been a long day.”  
“Yes.”  
Satisfied that he did not want to talk about the day’s events, Padmé closed her eyes again, moving closer to him and laying her arm across his chest, getting as close to him as she could to feel the comforting warmth radiating from him. “I love you,” she said simply.  
“I love you too.” Trembling from her touch, he put his arms around her, feeling calm for the first time that day. Tenderly he brushed her lips with his, gentle wisps of his love which, as she responded, grew into something much more passionate.  
After Padmé had fallen asleep, he lay there, staring at the blankness of the ceiling. He found himself thinking about who he was, what he wanted to be. It could not be denied that the war had made him; before then he had been nothing, strong in the Force but with no outlet for his considerable talents. However, the war had shaped him, made him the Jedi, the warrior… the hero that he was. Yet if the war was coming to an end, what would he be? Could he stop being a Jedi? Would he want to? He didn’t know. Then there was Padmé, breathing softly beside him. Years ago he had been certain that they would always be together, but now even that certainty was being taken away from him by his constant visions. Turning on to his side, he reached out and touched her cheek gently with his finger. It burnt his heart that events were carrying her away from him.

Stirring, Padmé opened her eyes. She had been in the middle of a dream where she and Anakin had been sitting in the meadows of Naboo watching unfamiliar animals running around them. It had been bizarre but wonderful too. Yet something had awoken her; as her eyes got used to the darkness she blinked, then noticed that she was alone in bed. Anakin was gone. Alarmed she got up as quickly as she was able, fumbling for her robe, hoping he had only just left. Pushing her curls back from her face, she hurried out the bedroom and into the reception area, calling his name. “Anakin!”  
Only the echo of her voice replied and her heart fell. He had already gone.

All that remained of the Jedi Council – Windu, Ki adi Mundi, Koth and Skywalker - gathered in the murky half-light of the war room, clustered around the huge flat monitor in the middle that projected continual information from High Command showing the movement of the Republic’s Army. The other available members of the Council - Luminara, Aalaya Secura and Obi-wan - were present as holograms. They had been listening to the update from Anakin on the High Command’s strategy, following the information from Intelligence about the whereabouts of the CLONE leaders.  
“I am not sure we can trust Republic intelligence,” Obi-wan was saying as his hologram shifted and flickered, “whilst there was evidence that Grievous was on Utapau, by the time we arrived here he had long gone. I have also been unable to speak to the Chairman to find out if his communication with Chancellor Palpatine was tampered with.”  
“We warned the Council,” said Master Koth, looking pointedly at Anakin, “that this would happen. Now we have sent one of our best Jedi Masters on a wild chase to nowhere!”  
“All is not lost,” said Anakin patiently as they lost Kenobi’s hologram again, “Obi-wan has a new lead to follow from our own intelligence in the system, which hopefully should allay any suspicions that it comes from the Chancellor’s office.”  
As Obi-wan’s hologram reappeared, the Jedi Master said loudly, “What was that, I lost you?”  
“Anakin was telling us that you have another lead to follow regarding Grievous,” said Mace.  
“Yes, I do,” replied Obi-wan, clearly in a very noisy environment, “we think he has gone to Malastare and we intend to do all we can to seek him out. High Command has approved our strategy.”  
Mace turned back to the young man who had initially called the meeting. “Anakin, you were going to tell us about the intelligence regarding the CLONE leaders.”  
“Yes, Master Windu,” Anakin pressed a button on the console, illuminating a series of data codes. “Late afternoon yesterday a message was intercepted by Master Tinn which suggests that several months ago the CLONE leaders established their HQ in the Leybeya system and have been hiding there ever since. The message was sent to the Chancellor and he has requested that a force be sent immediately to investigate the evidence under the supervision of a member of the Jedi Council. The High Command, excepting the Jedi Council, have all voted in favour of this motion. They are waiting for our response.”  
As Anakin expected, the debate this time did not centre on the validity of the information; that the intelligence was provided by a Jedi Master was enough to convince the Council. However, the Council could not agree on who to send and whether they could afford the loss of another Council member when their resources were already stretched so thinly.  
Mace Windu asked Anakin who the High Command might suggest to lead the offensive.  
“We were thinking about pulling Master Secura from the Rishi system but hearing her report today I am not so certain that we can afford to, nor is there any other system which we can easily withdraw from. Instead of redeployment we are convinced that we must send a member of the Council who is at the moment based on Coruscant.”  
The three Council members looked at each other. It was clear that Master Windu could not go; as head of the Jedi Council he was needed on Coruscant. Master Koth refused to take part in the war so that ruled him out. Ki ali Mundi had sustained such terrible injuries in his last combat mission that he was disabled and therefore of little use on a battlefield. That left only one possibility, as Anakin well knew.  
“Then we will suggest that you, Anakin, will lead this new assault on the CLONE,” said Mace reluctantly, knowing that to lose Anakin was to lose their most useful link with the Executive. “Please take our comments to the High Command and report back to us as soon as a decision is reached.”

Staring fixedly at the red carpet, Padmé waited outside the Chancellor’s office. After the delivery of the petition she had been wondering if there would be any fallout but to be summoned to the Chancellor’s office that morning was unexpected. She was beginning to wonder exactly what threat she constituted.  
The door slid open smoothly and Sate Argente entered the lobby. He regarded the Senator coldly, “Senator Amidala, the Chancellor will see you now.”  
Keeping her expression studiously blank, Padmé followed the aide into the inner office.  
Palpatine was sat behind the huge slab of obsidian that served for a desk. He put down the holopad he was reading as she approached, a pleasant expression on his face.  
“My dear Padmé,” smiled the Chancellor, his eyes lit like two sharp points of light in the gloomy office, “please take a seat.”  
Obeying, the Senator sat down in the chair directly opposite Palpatine, facing the desk.  
“You can leave now, Sate,” continued Palpatine, still smiling at the young woman as though he were some long lost relative.  
“As you wish, your Excellency.”  
As soon as the door slid closed, Palpatine lost his smile. “Do you know why you’re here?”  
“No, your Excellency.” She allowed herself to sound slightly wounded by his caustic tone.  
The Chancellor sighed and clasped his hands together. “I am concerned for you, my dear. For most of your political career you have always fought for what is right. Can you honestly say that this desire is still foremost in your mind?”  
“Why yes.” Some inner voice warned Padmé to be wary. “As I said yesterday, I am concerned that we must do what is right for the Republic.”  
“For the Republic?” he mused, tapping his fingers on the desk.  
“Yes, as has always been my intention ever since I was inaugurated as senator,” continued Padmé firmly.  
“It is as I expected,” agreed Palpatine, getting up and moving over to the window. “Which is why when I heard rumours to the contrary I was surprised to say the least.”  
“There are many rumours, your Excellency,” said Padmé, feeling prickles of unease beneath her composure. “But few are revealed to be true.”  
“I would normally agree my lady, but some things which we assumed to be untruths have been revealed as accurate. I must apologise that I am unable to share these with you. As you may imagine they are presently under investigation.” He turned from the window to face her. “But let me be honest and say that in the present climate it is increasingly difficult to know whom one can trust.”  
“I would agree that there is much deception, your Excellency,” she replied diplomatically. “It seems to be the nature of the conflict in which we find ourselves.”  
“That is why, Padmé, I find it worrying that you, whom I would consider a dear friend, are implicated in, how shall a put it, a plot against me.”  
“I do not understand,” said Padmé calmly, ever the practised politician, “what rumours are these?”  
The Chancellor sighed heavily. “That you, along with others, are plotting to take over the reins of power from me. To, and this is most horrible to relate but I must, destroy me. Oh, of course I know these rumours are unfounded,” he said before she could reply, “But I must warn you, my dear. There are those within the Senate who believe you are capable of such treachery. They even profess to have evidence and have petitioned me to place you, and the others implicated, under armed guard.”  
This was worrying news, however she had to convince the Chancellor that she was still, at heart, a Loyalist. “My loyalty is, and will always be, to the Republic, your Excellency. I admit I would prefer a more peaceful resolution to the conflict but to take control of the Senate? No, no, you must believe it would never be my intention.”  
“Padmé, believe me I am certain of your loyalty,” agreed the Chancellor, “which is why, my dear, I will fight to prevent this petition being pushed through. You will have to answer the charges though, I cannot prevent that.”  
“No, of course not.” She had the sinking feeling that she already knew who else would be implicated in the plot.  
“You have always been honest, Padmé, in your political life, a trait I have always admired in you.” Palpatine came back to his desk and sat down heavily. “But you are very good at keeping secrets about your personal life from emerging…”  
“I cannot see how this is relevant,” replied Senator Amidala, a touch indignantly.  
“It only adds fuel to the rumours which surround you,” said the Chancellor calmly, looking at her paternally. “Unfortunately, there are many who have grown suspicious about your relationship with a certain Jedi Knight.”  
“If you mean General Skywalker,” said Padmé unable to hide her annoyance that Coruscant’s rumour mill was getting close to the truth, “then we have never been anything but very good friends.”  
“My lady, you mistake me.” He looked wounded. “I only wanted to be the first to congratulate you.”  
“Congratulate me?”  
“Yes, I hear that you are pregnant. You and Anakin must be very happy.”  
With that one remark, the certainty that she had done enough to ensure that her relationship with Anakin would not be exposed was cruelly ripped away. “You are mistaken,” she said, her voice cold, “I am not pregnant.”  
“Really? Then I am sorry,” said the Chancellor, “How could I be so mistaken? I had it on very good authority…”  
“On who’s authority?” asked Padmé; please don’t let it be Anakin…  
“Still, I didn’t think a Senator and a Jedi were allowed to be in a relationship, let alone have a child together,” continued the Chancellor, ignoring her question, “I believed the Council prohibits such things, yes?”  
Padmé decided to turn the question back to the Chancellor. “Do you think General Skywalker and I would be reckless enough to seek such a relationship knowing it would be the end of both our careers? Let alone,” here she paused for effect, “have a child together?”  
Palpatine smiled in a fatherly way, “Young people are so apt to be reckless, Padmé, both you and I know that. However, in your case I can see how dangerous it would be for both of you to engage in such… behaviour.”  
It had not escaped Padmé’s notice that Palpatine’s interest in her had taken a considerably sinister tone. The political and the private had become horribly intertwined, and now with Anakin so close to the Chancellor it was easy enough for him to let a confidence slip. It was something she would have to ask him about, to put her own mind at rest. “It would not only be dangerous, my Lord, it would be ridiculous.”  
“Well, I am glad we had our little chat, my dear, it has cleared up a great many confusions in my mind. You may go now, I will not keep you any longer.”  
“Thank you, your Excellency.”  
As she stood up to leave, he called his aide to escort her out. “Remember what I told you, Padmé. The Senate are not in a forgiving mood. You would do well to keep yourself away from any activity that would bring further suspicion.”  
“Of course, your Excellency.” Leaving the office, it was not lost on the young woman that it was exactly the same advice that Anakin had given her.

In the meantime, Anakin had delivered his message to the High Command that the Jedi Council supported the moves towards engaging the CLONE leaders in Leybeya and that he had been put forward as the most suitable leader for the expedition. This move was swiftly formalised by all those present, and Anakin was tasked with taking the results to the Chancellor’s office. Admitted into the large and gloomy room, he found the Chancellor was delayed; taking the seat opposite the desk while he waited, immediately he sensed a familiar, if ghostly presence. Clearly Padmé had only been there an hour or so before him and he wondered why she had been speaking again so soon with the Chancellor.  
“Ah, Anakin,” said the Chancellor as he came into the room. “I am sorry to keep you waiting. No, no, please don’t stand,” he continued as the young man made to get up from his chair, “just wait for me to bring my slow body to my own chair.”  
As soon as the Chancellor had sat down, Anakin handed him a holopad. “I have the results of the High Command’s next strategy.”  
“Splendid,” said the Chancellor, taking it and quickly skimming through its contents. “I see that Obi-wan has failed to intercept Grievous on Utapau,” he sighed, looking across to Anakin, his brow furrowed, “I knew we should have sent you with him. General Kenobi’s mind is clearly not on the task; I fear that the Jedi Council will only have this war continue indefinitely.”  
“General Grievous is adept at fleeing when it suits him,” said Anakin defensively, “besides we have a new lead. Based on the Order’s intelligence in the area we have sent Obi-wan to Malastare.”  
“Let us hope that this time he is more successful,” muttered the Chancellor, returning to the holopad. “Oh, this is good news. I see that the Council have agreed to you leading the campaign to destroy the CLONE’s base in Leybeya.” Palpatine looked up with a friendly smile.  
“They had little choice in the matter, once I explained to them the difficulty of redeploying Jedi from elsewhere. But I think they would have preferred to send someone else,” replied Anakin, somewhat morosely. He had been agonising over the reluctance of the Council for most of the day, wondering why they seemed to have taken against him ever since he had been promoted to the Council at the behest of Palpatine. It was not like he had changed, rather their attitude towards him.  
“You see, Anakin, they squander your talents when they should be making the most of them,” muttered the Chancellor, putting down the holopad. “Well this is all as it should be and I will not keep you much longer; I imagine you have much to do.”  
“May I ask one question before I go, your Grace?” asked Anakin; if he sounded hesitant it was because he was not sure if he should be even asking the question.  
“Of course,” the Chancellor smiled kindly, as if sensing his anxiety.  
“Was Senator Amidala here earlier?” He had to know that his perceptions were correct.  
“Why yes, however did you know?”  
“I can feel her presence here,” admitted Anakin, feeling a little ridiculous as he always did trying to explain his connection to the Force to someone outside the Jedi Order.  
“You have a strong connection to the Senator, don’t you Anakin,” said the Chancellor sympathetically, “but I urge you more than ever to be careful about your relationship. The Senate has opened an investigation into the conduct of several senators, and I am afraid to say that Senator Amidala is one of them.”  
Anakin’s blood ran cold. “I will heed your advice, your Grace.” It had to be something to do with the petition.  
“Good luck Anakin,” smiled the Chancellor as he stood up to leave, “and please give my regards to Master Windu.”

Arriving back at the Temple that afternoon, Anakin hurried to the Council chamber to present the decisions regarding the new strategy to his Jedi Masters. However, as he neared the door he heard Master Windu say very clearly, 'The Dark side of the Force surrounds the Chancellor.'  
Startled, Anakin stopped in the corridor. It was clearly his Force perception that was picking up the conversation inside the chamber as the doors were designed to emit no sound; yet this clarity of perception was entirely new.  
He heard Ki adi mundi speak next. 'But we have not yet discovered its source. We believed that Anakin would lead us to this Sith Lord or flush him out but so far we have got nowhere.'  
This was news to Anakin. Although he knew the Council wanted him to help them find the Sith Lord, he did not know that they wanted him to lead them to the Sith Lord! Did that mean they had been using him as bait?  
Patience said Mace’s voice clearly in his head, 'If Palpatine wishes for Anakin to remain on Coruscant it could mean that the Sith is working through him.'  
'But if he supports Anakin’s leadership of the campaign it might be that the Sith wishes him to grow stronger', said another voice, possibly Master Koth. 'We can interpret this evidence in any way we choose, the Force keeps its mysteries from us whilst we continue to participate in this war.'  
Reeling with the noise inside his head, Anakin staggered over to the window and collapsed against the sill. Even at a distance from the chamber, the voices were still loud enough to suggest that he was in the room himself.  
'The Council can no longer support the way in which the High Command is conducting this war' said another voice, that of Aalaya, 'the end of Dooku should have signalled a greater effort to promote peace but still the war continues to the detriment of the Galaxy.'  
Mace Windu sighed audibly. 'The influence of the Sith goes deep I am certain of it. If it had not been for Anakin’s connection to the Chancellor we might never have been aware of just how intricate the deception is.'  
'I propose that we remove the Chancellor from office' replied Plo Keen’s voice decisively, 'if he is under the influence of a Sith Lord, he represents too much of a threat.'  
'The Chancellor is dangerous considering he has control of the army and much support in the Senate. The Jedi Council would have to take control of the Senate in order to secure a peaceful transition' said Mace Windu. 'We cannot trust the Senators to act in the interests of the Republic, it is likely they too are under the influence of the Sith. Only the Jedi can restore the Republic to what it was.'  
'We will have to first recall the Jedi who are not on Coruscant,' cautioned Aalaya. 'How can we accomplish this without the knowledge of the High Command?'  
'We have Anakin,' said Mace Windu simply. 'He can motion it as a point of strategy.'  
'I think you forget, Master Windu, that we may have support within the Senate,' added Ki adi mundi, 'what about those involved with the Delegation of the Two Thousand?'  
'There are rumours that these Senators are desiring an end to the Chancellor’s rule to restore their vision of the Republic' said Mace thoughtfully. 'Perhaps we should attempt to contact them?'  
Anakin knew immediately that they referring to Padmé and her friends. There were plots within plots, circles within circles. All aimed at taking control at the expense of others. It didn’t help that they had been using him to flush out the Sith Lord – why didn’t they tell me?  
When the voices finally subdued, Anakin went across to the Council chamber and knocked politely on the doors.  
Immediately they opened. “Come in, Skywalker,” said Master Windu pleasantly. It seemed clear to Anakin that they had no idea he had overhead their conversation. “Have you reported our decision to the High Command and the Chancellor?”  
“Yes Master Windu, both decisions have been accepted. I bring details of the new strategy agreed by High Command.”  
“And you have spoken to the Chancellor?” Mace looked at him searchingly, “What did he say?”  
Knowing that to tell the truth was vital at this juncture, Anakin replied, “He expressed a disbelief in the capabilities of General Kenobi to capture General Grievous. In fact, Master, his exact words were The Jedi would only have this war continue indefinitely.” He waited. If they told him what they had been discussing beforehand, he knew that they trusted him.  
“I think the Chancellor greatly underestimates Obi-wan,” replied Mace, glancing at the other Council members, “do you understand why he might have this opinion?”  
“No, Master,” admitted Anakin, it was the truth after all. “I found it very hard to discern his feelings other than that he has lost his faith in General Kenobi. There appears to be no other reason for this other than that he has heard some rumours that Obi-wan is neglecting his duty to the Republic because he has fallen in love with a Senator.”  
Immediately there were outraged murmurs throughout the Council chamber. “How preposterous,” spluttered Master Koth, alarmed that such rumours were even circulating about a Jedi. “Where does the Chancellor hear these things?”  
“The Senate is a minefield,” explained Anakin patiently, having told the Council previously about the propensity of senators and diplomats to gossip. “I hear all number of rumours on a daily basis, most of them disappear only to be replaced the next day by something even more extraordinary.”  
For Master Windu, the readiness of the Chancellor to accept such rumours indicated his lack of respect for the Jedi Order in general. “Thank you Anakin, that will be all for now. All we can do is wait until we hear from Obi-wan. I imagine that you are eager to begin your own preparations?”  
Clearly they were not about to trust him with their plans and his mood shifted. “Yes Master.”  
“I will need to speak with you before you go,” continued the Jedi Master, seemingly oblivious to the subtle change in Anakin’s demeanour, “Contact me when you are ready.”  
“Yes, Master.” And with that, he swept from the room, his dark cloak swirling about him.

So intent was Anakin on leaving the Council chamber that he barely noticed one of the padawans was trying to get his attention until he almost tripped over her.  
“Master Skywalker!” Hala Ketra, only fourteen years old and so puny she barely reached up to his chest, was tugging at his sleeve, trying to get his attention.  
“What is it Hala?” He tried to sound friendly despite being impatient at the interruption.  
“Here’s a message for you,” she ventured, less bravely, trotting alongside to keep pace with him.  
“Who’s it from?”  
“A lady, she didn’t tell me her name.”  
“Thank you.” Realising he had been rather abrupt, he gently mussed the profusion of curls on her head, “I’m sorry Hala, I can’t stay and talk. I’m in a hurry.”  
“May the Force be with you,” she called after him, a tiny figure lost amongst the grandeur of the Temple’s hallways.  
Turning over the message in his hands, Anakin realised it was from Padmé, written in the code they shared. Alone in the elevator, he read it aloud. “He knows.” Who knew? And what did they know?

Gravely, Mace Windu regarded the rest of the Council. “Now that the Chancellor has openly lost faith in the ability of the Jedi to win this war, we must tread very carefully. He and his counsellors may seek to undermine us.”  
“And now we must lose Anakin,” opined Ki adi Mundi, “who was our only connection with the Senate and the Executive. We must endeavour to repair the breach ourselves.”  
Whilst Master Koth openly refuted the idea, Mace only said, “There is enough of the Republic’s original structure left to restore the reputation of the Jedi. We must seek to make ourselves more visible and challenge some of the rumours which are gathering about us. If there really is a Sith manipulating opinion against us, we must wait for them to reveal themselves. Despite Anakin’s evidence, it is not proving easy to find them. However, the possible end to the war might force their hand.”  
“I agree,” Ki ali mundi nodded wisely, “we must wait until we hear from Obi-wan and Anakin about the outcome of their campaigns. Once we know that the CLONE are defeated we can go to the Chancellor and demand that he restore the Republic’s constitution and structure as it was before the war. We will have the support of the Delegation of the Two Thousand in our endeavours, they demanded the same thing of the Chancellor only days ago.”  
The Council voted quickly on the planned strategy; despite the Evangelical’s opposition to interfering with the government of the Republic, even they agreed that the Jedi must move quickly if there was to be a peaceful transition to the former principles of the Republic upon the ending of the war.  
“If this comes to pass, strike quickly we must,” said Mace, surveying the remaining Jedi with a sombre eye, “before the Sith strike us.”

That night was another nightmarish one for Anakin; he tossed and turned for hours, going over the days events in his mind, only to fall asleep from sheer exhaustion. Then the dreams came; amongst many jumbled images, he saw Padmé screaming in pain, her face contorted by agony, her life being sucked out of her by some malevolent shadow. 'Help me Anakin', she pleaded, 'help me, help me!' But in his dream he could only watch as she fell to the ground, pale and cold, all life drained from her. Sated, the shadow crept along the ground towards him; Anakin tried to move but he was rooted to the spot with fear. With growing alarm he watched as the shadow reached him, started to creep up his body and, as it enveloped his head, flow into his mouth and nose. However, it did not suffocate him as it had done Padmé for the shadow was clearly part of him…. Immediately he woke up, sweating with fear and horror.

“No one may see Miss Padmé,” said Threepio to the bemused handmaidens. “She specifically requested to be left alone.”  
The Senator had returned from a meeting only to squirrel herself away in her bedroom, telling Threepio that she was only to be disturbed in an emergency. His sensors had indicated that she was upset but there was little he could do; she refused all his suggestions of help including a nice warm bath or a cup of tea. In respect of her wishes, Threepio of course had taken her instructions to the letter.  
“Senator Organa is here, Threepio,” said Dormé briskly, no time for the rigid insistences of the droid, “he says the matter is urgent and in my opinion that constitutes an emergency.”  
“Senator Amidala would wish to be informed,” nodded Elle in support. She could not help but wonder what could be so terrible to confine their mistress to her room; it was not like the Senator to act in this manner.  
“But Mistress Padmé insisted…”  
The door slid open and Senator Amidala came out, looking calm and collected. “What is it?”  
“Senator Organa is here to see you,” said Dormé, relieved to see that the Senator looked less distressed than they might have expected. “He says that it is urgent.”  
“Oh,” she said, more animated. “Is he waiting downstairs?”  
“He’s in the sitting room.”  
Downstairs, Padmé found Bail waiting next to the veranda entrance, examining one of the many striking pieces of sculpture she had brought with her from Naboo. Its sinuous shapes and warm, bright colours reflected the characteristic interests of folk sculptors who took their inspiration from the natural world. “Forgive me, Senator Organa, for keeping you waiting,” she said brightly.  
Bail swung round to greet her. “Do not worry, it is my fault for intruding upon you without forewarning,” he said warmly. “Your droid, Threepio, said that you were unwell.”  
“I was merely resting,” said Padmé with enforced cheeriness, “unfortunately Threepio has a habit of making a crisis where there is none.” She ushered him over to the couch. “Please take a seat, can I get you something to drink?”  
“No, no I cannot stay long.” He sat down and waited until she had taken a seat next to him. “I have come to warn you my lady. I have heard that you and several other senators are to be arrested.”  
“Arrested?” Padmé looked at him strangely, “Oh no, the Chancellor promised the Senate’s motion would have to be ratified first.” Seeing his shocked expression she continued hurriedly, “That’s what you’re referring to aren’t you? The arrest of those named on the petition?”  
“You already know?”  
“I had a meeting with the Chancellor this morning,” she said, picking at a loose thread on her gown, “he warned me that the Senate had petitioned for our arrest. But he said he was going to try and stall the motion until tomorrow.”  
“Chi has already been arrested.”  
Bail spoke so quietly that Padmé thought she had misheard. “What?”  
“I’m surprised you trusted him, my lady.” Bail took her hands in his, looked at her searchingly. “You are all to be arrested. Today. Chi is the first. They supposedly have evidence that certain senators are involved in a plot to take control of the Republic.”  
“Yes, he mentioned it.” Fear gripped her heart in icy threads, pulling it tighter until she felt suffocated. “I wonder where this information comes from?”  
“Mon and I tried to find out but so far we have not been successful.”  
“It must be fabricated. It must be.” She looked at Bail with huge eyes, “There’s nothing we can do, is there?”  
“Short of leaving Coruscant.” Bail squeezed her hands, “if you are willing my lady we could leave very soon, I have my ship ready.”  
To leave Coruscant… she couldn’t do it. “No, I can’t leave, Bail. It will only serve to highlight my guilt. No, I have to remain here.” Standing, she paced over to the window, “If we could only find out where the evidence against us is coming from, then we would know what we were up against.”  
“We have no contacts high enough in the Chancellor’s office,” sighed Bail, leaning against the back of the couch. “Unless…” His face lit with the sudden flash of inspiration. “What about our friend, Anakin Skywalker? He has the Chancellor’s trust and respect. Would he help us?”  
“I don’t know,” said Padmé truthfully.  
“If anyone could provide us with the information we need it would be Anakin,” continued Bail before seeing her expression, “You’re not convinced?”  
“Anakin is already under pressure because of his relationship with the Chancellor.” Padmé remembered the last time she had asked Anakin to do something for her. “To ask him to do more could place him in a very difficult position.” Anakin’s presence at the presentation of the petition had convinced her that he was already being used by the Chancellor to legitimate the Senate’s concerns.  
“Yes. That is a valid point.” Bail passed a hand wearily across his face. “I agree, we cannot ask him to do something that might jeopardise his position. Then maybe there is nothing we can do except wait and hope the evidence is flimsy enough to defeat in the Senate.”  
Padmé could not suppress the guilt that heaved itself into her breast; she felt sick to the heart. Why did she lack the courage to help save her colleagues? She, who had fought the CLONE, faced worse hardships than now. What was wrong with her? “We must try. I will speak to Anakin,” she said decisively. “It might not be enough to save Chi but it might save others, if we can find out the charges against us.”  
Bail stood up and came over to her. “Thank you Padmé. We need to know the nature of the allegations and who is to be arrested. Do you think you can get these to me?”  
“It depends how soon I can contact Anakin,” said Padmé. “I will try the Temple first, but if he is with the Chancellor it may take longer.”  
“Of course. There are so many factors outside of our control.” Looking at his wristband, Bail grimaced. “You must excuse me Padmé, I have to go. Are you certain you want to stay here? Might you be safer elsewhere?”  
“If they are determined to find me,” she replied staunchly, “I will not be safe anywhere. I will stay here and face them. I know they will find nothing to incriminate me.”  
“Please be careful,” Bail embraced her warmly, “the Republic soldiers are not gentle. Contact me if you need me, won’t you.”  
“I will.” Padmé smiled bravely; the thought that she could do something filled her with new resolve.

Anakin hurried through the teeming streets of Coruscant, on his way to an appointment with the Chancellor at the Opera House. Everywhere there were humanoids and aliens rushing hither and thither, ignoring the Jedi in their midst. The only ones who didn’t ignore him were trying to sell him something, but a raise of his hand was enough to warn them that this Jedi was not to be trifled with. As he passed through the streets, he reflected that these solitary walks were the only moments he had time to himself, to think about his present and possible future. However, today his mind was empty, his stomach rumbling as he pushed himself hard to fulfil the demands placed upon him. Finally, he snapped and went over to one of the food vendors that lined the street and ordered a freshly made pancake with a savoury filling. It was hot, and very tasty. By the time he reached the Opera House he was feeling much better, it was the first proper food in ages that he had enjoyed and savoured.  
Reaching the Opera House, Anakin paused a moment before entering. The building was vast, a huge oval roof supported at ground level by rows and rows of delicately carved pillars that ran round the sides of the building. It was not a place that Anakin entered willingly; he was, after all, hardly a member of Coruscant high society. In fact he was a man of rather more simple tastes. A huge expanse of space, liberally sprinkled with enough uncharted stars and planets to explore, were enough to maintain his interest; he had no care for status, material possessions or whatever he assumed the upper classes cared about. As a consequence he rarely ventured into the upper echelons of society and whenever he was forced to by duty or by accident, he quickly made his way out again. The feelings of euphoria brought on by the tasty meal therefore were not going to last very long.  
Patrons watched him with some astonishment as the tall young man strode conspicuously up the stairs (the Jedi were not known for their interest in arts and culture) and made his way to the Chancellor’s private box. It was a world far outside his experience and already he could feel the sweat gathering on his brow.  
“Ah Anakin, you made it,” said Palpatine benignly as Anakin, still glowing unnaturally under the intense lights of the theatre, appeared at his shoulder. “Please, come and sit down next to me.”  
Anakin took the proffered seat next to the Chancellor; on the opposite side of the box he could see Sly Moore, the Chancellor’s personal secretary and rumoured Force-sensitive. It did seem that the secretary seemed to incline her head towards him as he sat down and he sensed small tendrils of interest radiating from her being. Perhaps there was something in the rumours after all? However, he was not given any more opportunity to find out as the Chancellor dismissed his attendants in order to give his full attention to the young man next to him.  
“You are looking tired, Anakin.”  
Caught rubbing his eyes, Anakin said rather self-consciously, “I did not sleep very well last night.”  
“More dreams?” asked the Chancellor sympathetically. When Anakin only nodded, the Chancellor patted his arm. “I will not pry but I can tell by your response that these dreams were not pleasant.”  
“None of my dreams have ever been pleasant,” sighed the young man, not wishing to talk about it further.  
Seeing that a change of conversation was needed, the Chancellor asked, “Have you ever been to the opera before Anakin?”  
“No, your Excellency.” Gazing down at the spectacle below them, Anakin saw that the stage was filled with several illuminated globes, spinning and crashing into each other; amongst the globes, dancers and singers flew around, their long colourful robes streaming out behind them as they moved. If he was honest, it did not make much sense to him.  
“Can you understand what the performance is about?” Seeing that Anakin was flummoxed, the Chancellor continued in his kindly fashion, “It is a meditation on the birth of the Galaxy, an interpretation that suggests it all began with a very large, hot ball of energy which exploded and as a consequence enabled the stars and planets to form. Wonderful, isn’t it, to be able to see new life created?”  
“Very interesting,” Anakin tried to smile, hoping that the Chancellor had not only invited him to watch the opera. “It sounds very similar to the creation of the Universe we are taught in Jedi lore. Although, the Force was the source of the energy.”  
“Yes, I have been reading up on Jedi lore and I have something to ask you later, Anakin, if I may. But first, unfortunately I have some bad news to tell you. I am afraid that the Senate has demanded the arrest of leaders of the Delegation of the Two Thousand, to include Senator Amidala. They want them named as traitors against the Republic. Although I tried to caution more leniency, unfortunately I was pressed to sign the orders.”  
“Are you sure that nothing can be done to placate the Senate?” asked Anakin, worrying about Padmé and the stress it would cause her.  
Palpatine sighed heavily and shook his head. “I have tried everything, but the Senate are demanding answers and the only way in which to do that is to question the leaders. I am certain that Senator Amidala has nothing to fear if she has been loyal,” he continued, “I warned her that her actions placed her under suspicion but she assured me that she remained loyal to the Republic. I have to trust her.”  
“Senator Amidala has been nothing but loyal to the Republic,” insisted Anakin; although he knew that Padmé had taken an increasingly radical stance, he did not think she would betray the Republic as the rumours suggested. “I am sure that if she knew the real aims of her fellow Senators, she would seek to distance herself from them.”  
“I will trust your judgement.” Palpatine said as the music reached a crescendo, “You know Senator Amidala better than I do.”  
“I thought I did,” replied the young man, not really thinking about what he was saying, “but I fear that her political agenda is quite different to that of the Senate.”  
“It seems to be,” agreed Palpatine, “and she seems to have become even more radical ever since, how shall I put it, she got herself into some difficulty in her personal life. Perhaps that has affected her judgement?”  
“What do you mean?” asked Anakin, his skin tingling.  
“Why her pregnancy, of course. Everyone knows that women tend to change when they bring new life into the world.”  
“The Senator is not pregnant,” the young man said quickly, suddenly realising what Padmé’s note meant. He knows…  
“But she was, wasn’t she?” went on the Chancellor sympathetically, “I was so very sorry to hear about your loss.”  
Finally mastering his emotions, Anakin said coldly, “It was a mistake, it should not have happened.”  
“There is no need to hide your sadness, Anakin, I can see why you kept it a secret,” said Palpatine in his kindly fashion, “even from me. It’s not something the Jedi Council would have accepted.”  
“No, I would have been thrown out of the Order.” Now he had another reason to be indebted to the Chancellor. He wondered how he could have found out - not only about his relationship with Padmé but about the pregnancy. There was no suspicion placed on Padmé’s household; they had proved their reliability time and time again. It must have been someone from the medical centre, but would examining the Senator’s medical records be a routine procedure for the Senate or Executive? Anakin did not know.  
“I don’t know if that would be so terrible,” said the Chancellor, raising a smile for the first time in the meeting, “there is always a place for you here, Anakin, at my side. If you would wish to work for me?”  
The offer was so unexpected that Anakin could only stutter, “That is a very generous offer, your Grace, I do not know what to say.”  
“You do not have to say anything, I can see by your reaction that it would not be so terrible a thought! I know that you wish to serve the Republic and how better to do so through my office. You must know by now that the Council do not have your best interests at heart.”  
“I am beginning to think so,” replied Anakin, remembering the vividness of his vision outside the Council chamber. “I am not sure where their thoughts towards the future of the Republic are headed.”  
“Even though you sit on the Council?”  
“Yes, I am being excluded from their plans; there are things that they are not telling me.”  
“Anakin,” said Palpatine slowly, “will you allow me to be frank?”  
“Of course, your Excellency.”  
“I think Anakin that you should be wary of the Jedi Council. Since this investigation of the Senate began into the Delegation of the Two Thousand, evidence has been uncovered which suggests the Senators were in league with several Jedi from the Temple.”  
“It has?” It all seemed rather convenient, considering that he had only heard the Jedi discussing their plans the previous day. The Jedi Council were not known for their speed in such matters.  
“I cannot go into more details as the evidence is still classified, but essentially it seems that some Jedi are hoping to use the insurrection in the Senate to regain the control they once enjoyed in the early days of the Republic. I suspect they have been building support against me in the Senate.”  
Anakin remained silent, unsure what to believe.  
“They are afraid to lose their power,” went on the Chancellor in a whispered hush, “That is why they resent the loss of their independence. I have been reading about your training and it seems to me that they have implemented a series of tests and hierarchies so that only the most malleable young people will make it through. It is not only until a Jedi reaches the elevated status of Master that their true training begins, and then that is only available to those the Council choose to reach the status of Master.”  
The failure to reach the status of Master for that very reason still chafed with the young man. “There are many aspects of Jedi knowledge that we are not allowed to access until we can become a Master.”  
“Until then you are trained to accept that the word of your Masters is the only way.” The Chancellor whispered conspiratorially, “Then there is this nonsense about midichlorians.”  
Anakin was confused. “What about them?”  
“They are an invention of the Jedi, pure and simple. They make up some simple organism, which has been shown to be present in all species, and pretend that they are the beings that create the Force. Then they use it to measure how powerful someone is.” Seeing he was making his point clearly, Palpatine went on, “For a long time I have been watching your relationship with your Jedi Masters and seeing your distress I can no longer say silent. Anakin, my boy, they see your great future and they are afraid. They want to keep you malleable. They know your power will be too strong for them to control and that is why they seek to control you now.”  
“They treat me as though I am still a padawan, learning at the lap of his Master!” complained Anakin, seizing the opportunity to unburden himself to a sympathetic ear. “I have been patient and loyal. I have sacrificed so much for the Jedi Order but still they refuse to trust me. I don’t know what more I can do!”  
“I do not think you can do any more, Anakin, you have done all you can. It is the fault of the Council that they cannot see your talents as clearly as others, like myself, see them,” said Palpatine benevolently. “I can trust you, Anakin, can’t I?”  
“Yes, your Excellency.” Despite the kindness in the Chancellor’s voice there was also something commanding in his tone which Anakin could not ignore.  
The Chancellor settled back into his seat. “Then I can tell you that I have been studying the Jedi Order carefully in order to attempt to understand their motives, to try and find a reason why they would want to turn their back on the Republic. It made for very interesting reading. Did you know for example that the Dark Lords of the Sith believe in security and justice also, yet they are considered by the Jedi to be…”  
“Evil.” Anakin knew he was heading into dangerous territory here; he remembered the whisperings he had heard on Korriban, telling him of things he should not have listened to. The Chancellor’s voice reminded him of those whisperings now.  
“Yes, evil but only from the Jedi's point of view. From an outsider’s perspective it seems that the Sith and the Jedi are similar in almost every way, including their quest for greater power. The only difference between the two is that the Sith are not afraid of the dark side of the Force.”  
“Forgive me, your Grace, but there is a great difference between the two,” Anakin interjected, “the Sith rely on their passion for their strength. They think inward, only about themselves-”  
The Chancellor kept his eyes on the performance below them, “Forgive me for sounding sceptical but events of the past months seem to suggest otherwise.”  
“The Jedi are selfless,” continued Anakin uncomfortably, feeling he was under some kind of test, “they care about others before themselves, they care about the Republic and maintaining the peace of the Galaxy.”  
“Or so you've been trained to believe. Why is it, then, that they have asked you to do something which you feel is wrong?”  
To this, Anakin did not know what to say; it had crossed his mind many times that the Jedi Council were no better than the Chancellor in that respect. Both relied on him to bring them information about the other. Instead he diverted his attention back to the performance which was reaching a particularly dramatic crescendo as one of the ‘planets’ erupted into an explosion of volcanic lava.  
“Wonderful isn’t it?” said Palpatine, turning to smile at the young man. “Anyway, the main thing I learnt from my reading is that the fear of losing power is a weakness of both the Jedi and the Sith. Have you ever come across the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?”  
“Sith lore is not something we are encouraged to read while we are training.” Only Jedi Masters were considered to be of sufficient maturity and wisdom to be able to access such information which, on reflection, proved the Chancellor’s point.  
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” said the Chancellor sympathetically. “Well, I came across it in my reading. According to legend, Darth Plagueis was a Dark Lord of the Sith so powerful and wise that he could use the Force to create life.”  
“Create life?” asked Anakin incredulously.  
“Yes, apparently he was able to manipulate the Force, or the midichlorians if you believe they exist, to create an entirely new being. Rather like the Force itself.”  
“What happened to his creation?” asked Anakin, interested despite his scepticism.  
“Nobody knows,” sighed the Chancellor, “which is a shame considering the achievement of Plagueis. Not only was he able to master creation but he also learned how to save the lives of the people around him, including those he cared about the most.”  
“He could save people from death?” This was of even greater interest to Anakin considering the loss he had faced in his relatively short life.  
“Why, yes, so the legend says. It seems that the dark side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities which the Jedi shun, something I cannot understand. Surely they would want to use such a power for good?”  
“I was not even aware that such a power existed,” breathed Anakin, wondering what other abilities the Jedi Masters kept secret.  
“Sadly Plaguesis was not strong enough to save himself,” the Chancellor went on softly, “which was his only weakness. And here is the moral of the tale, Anakin; he taught his apprentice everything he knew and that apprentice turned on his Master and killed him in his sleep. The poor man never saw it coming.”  
It was an interesting story… but to Anakin that was all it was. A story. It had to be; no one surely could be that powerful?  
“Well Anakin, you are tired and I should let you go,” said the Chancellor, patting the young man on the hand. “I hope I have not bored you too much with my silly nonsense?”  
“Not at all, your Honour,” said Anakin politely. “Goodnight, your Excellency.”  
Despite his tiredness, Anakin spent another sleepless night going over the Chancellor’s words in his head. The conversation had only impressed upon him once more the difficult situation he found himself him, trapped between the Jedi Council and the Executive whilst trying to achieve what he thought was best for the Republic. Then there was the trouble that Padmé was facing and yet he could nothing to help her, it was out of his hands. When he did briefly sleep it was filled with dreams; this time he imagined himself as a powerful Jedi Master who could save the life of Qui-Gon, his mother, his child… The realisation that he was never to achieve this power or ability, however, only reduced him to tears of hopelessness.

The next morning, Anakin crawled out of bed early to make his way over to landing platform 33X-609. There he found that the preparations for his Leybeya campaign were progressing rapidly. Not in the mood to sit and plan his strategy instead he insisted on helping the stewards carry provisions into the immense battle cruiser in which he and his force would be travelling. It amused the stewards, and the troops, no end to see a respectable Jedi Knight remove his cloak and participate in the hot and sweaty business of loading a ship. However, they also appreciated his down to earth approach to things, which they collectively felt many Jedi Knights and Masters could do with imitating.  
Physical work was good for Anakin; the meeting with the Chancellor the night before had unsettled him to the extent that he felt a sharp sense of foreboding about how close he had become to the elderly statesman. Considering that unlike many others he could only read vague suggestions of what was going on in Palpatine’s mind, it was uncanny how much the Chancellor seemed to know about him. It was impossible to deceive him; but it was more than that, he seemed to know everything that was going on in Coruscant. Part of him considered that the Jedi and Delegation of the Two Thousand were right not to trust him; maybe he did have spies everywhere as the rumours said. The problem for Anakin was that there were now many more reasons why he ought to remain on the right side of the Chancellor than to renounce his allegiance altogether. The Chancellor knew too much, too much that could potentially be damaging for his position within the Jedi Order. Also he had come to rely on the Chancellor’s help and advice for negotiating the difficult path he must steer between the Senate, Executive and Jedi Order; unlike the Jedi Council, Palpatine’s advice was practical and achievable. Furthermore, if Anakin was honest with himself, he had come to revel in the praise and support heaped upon him by the Chancellor, particularly as his resentment grew towards the Jedi Masters who seemed to underestimate his abilities. It had become something he could not do without.  
Heaving another box onto his shoulder, Anakin was halfway up the ramp into the cruiser when a shout came from behind him, “General Skywalker, have you got a moment?”  
Turning round, Anakin saw that one of the stewards was hurrying towards him. Placing the box on the ground he came down to the edge of the ramp, “What is it?”  
“There is someone to see you, Sir, she said her name was Elle.”  
Immediately recognising the name of Senator Amidala’s handmaiden, Anakin was suddenly concerned. “Where is she?”  
“Waiting in the general office.”  
“Thank you.” Leaving his box, Anakin hurried away from the cruiser and over to a small collection of grey, functional buildings that served as offices for the staff. The general office stood in the centre and as Anakin opened the door, he saw Elle sat on the chairs reserved for visitors; she was so hunched within her handmaiden’s cloak that her face was barely visible. Already he sensed that something was wrong. “Elle?”  
The handmaiden looked up, “Anakin, thank goodness you are here. I need to talk to you, urgently.”  
If the office staff recognised that something was unusual about the young woman addressing the Jedi Knight they did not show it, continuing with their tasks in a mechanical manner. However, Anakin was quick to notice that it was not Elle at all underneath the robe, it was the Senator herself! He wondered why she had come in disguise. “Certainly, come with me,” he said, “I’m sure one of the rooms near here will be free…”  
“Projection room 1.2 is free,” said one of the assistants helpfully, pointing down one of the corridors.  
“Thank you,” replied Anakin, mentally cursing himself that nothing went unnoticed in this city.  
Together with Padmé-disguised-as-Elle, Anakin let himself into the projection room; used to present strategy and information prior to a campaign, it was sparsely furnished with a row of chairs, table for the presenter and large projection screen on the back wall. Turning on the lights, Anakin motioned Padmé towards a chair. “Do you want anything to eat or drink?”  
“No, I’m fine,” said Padmé with a sigh, finally removing her hood once Anakin had checked the door was secured against any unnecessary intruders. “I’m sorry if this draws unwanted attention for you, Anakin, but I had to see you before you go.”  
“What is it?” Pulling up a chair next to her, he took her hands in his, only to find that they were freezing cold.  
“I’ve been arrested,” she began, before mentally checking herself, “well, Elle has been arrested in my stead.”  
“Is this because of the petition to the Executive?” he asked quietly.  
“Yes,” she nodded. “They think that we are part of a wider plot to bring down the Republic by removing the Chancellor and forming a new Senate that will pass through even more repressive measures than at present! It is ridiculous!” When Anakin remained silent, taking the information in, Padmé continued. “They came to search my apartments for any information they can use against me; Elle suggested that I swap places with her so that I did not have to endure the humiliation. Little did we both know that the orders were also to arrest me; by then it was too late to do anything and so poor Elle suffers in my place.”  
“It will not help your cause when they find out that you have deceived the Senate,” said Anakin with great concern, knowing now the danger she was in.  
“I know, I know,” said Padmé, the panic rising in her voice, “but I didn’t know what I could do! I tried to find out where the Senators are being held so I could perhaps swap places with Elle but they are being kept in isolation and no visitors are allowed.” She looked at him, her eyes reflecting her inner fear, “I didn’t know what else to do so I came to find you.”  
“I don’t know how I can help you, Padmé,” said Anakin as gently as he could, pressing her fingers. “I have already expressed my reservations to the Chancellor but he said his hands are tied by the Senate. They are the ones demanding your arrest.”  
“You have spoken to the Chancellor?” Her memory of the last meeting with the Chancellor was still burnt into her mind.  
“Yes. I now know the meaning of your message,” he replied, feeling ashamed once more at the thought that their secret had been betrayed.  
“I don’t know how he could have found out,” said Padmé nervously, “It can’t have been anyone in my household and medical records are supposed to be confidential, even to the Executive and Senate. If they had requested to see my records, I would have to give my permission first.”  
“I thought as much,” said Anakin, his head reeling with the implications. He had to leave Coruscant that evening, but how could he leave Padmé with the fear of sentence hanging over her head? “It hardly matters how he knows, at least I know it will not go any further.”  
“He gave his word?”  
“Not exactly,” admitted Anakin, still coming to terms with how precarious his own position was, “but it may be the price of allegiance.”  
“How did we get into this mess?” said the young Senator passionately, “we tried so hard, it hardly seems fair.”  
It was a reflection of the thoughts in Anakin’s own mind and he pulled her close to him, “It’s not fair, but there is nothing we can do. We knew the risks.”  
“Yes, we knew the risks,” she echoed, wishing she could go back to when she made the fateful decision to allow herself to fall in love with a Jedi Knight.  
“You don’t regret anything, do you?” Hearing the emptiness in her voice, Anakin looked into her eyes searchingly, hoping that she was not about to abandon him.  
“No, no, of course not,” she said quickly, touching his face to smooth away his furrowed brow, “I will never regret falling in love with you. It’s all the deception that we’ve had to maintain…”  
“It’s contained,” cut in Anakin, knowing that now was not the time to dwell on the mistakes they had made. “For the time being.” For how much longer he could not say, it all depended in his mind on the magnanimity of the Chancellor.  
Knowing that there was little more she could do, Padmé decided to accept her fate with calm and composure. “Then I’ll just have to wait and see what happens to Elle.”  
“Is there somewhere safe you can go?”  
“Senator Organa has offered to take me in until the matter is over.”  
“Isn’t he also under suspicion?” asked Anakin. For some reason the thought of Padmé being sheltered by the disgraced Admiral made him anxious.  
“Yes, but he did not sign the petition. That is the focus of the Senate at the present time.”  
Time was running out, “Padmé, promise me you will be careful!”  
“I promise,” getting to her feet, she embraced him tightly, feeling a terrible sense of foreboding that she might never see him again. It was not a time to give into feelings of love and passion but still, like Anakin, she found herself caught up in her emotions, one kiss leading to another and another. It was a while before both were calm enough to say goodbye properly.  
“I love you,” Padmé whispered into Anakin’s ear, holding him tightly for one last time.  
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he promised her, loathe to let her go but knowing that his absence would be hard enough to explain, let alone abandoning the campaign to stay and take care of her. Ideally he would take her with him but the danger was too great. “My love will be with you.”

With Anakin away, Padmé went to stay at the apartment occupied by Senator Organa and his wife, Breha. Still in her disguise as a handmaiden, Padmé found it refreshing to escape from the endless round of meetings and functions that had dominated her life as a Senator and she soon settled into the domestic tranquility of the Organa household. The only drawback was that this gave her more time to reflect upon the circumstances in which she found herself, and the declining situation in Coruscant only made matters worse. Increased numbers of police on the streets were symptomatic of a growing violent mood amongst the populace as the war dragged on and restrictions on trade and movement in the Galaxy were not lifted. Food shortages had led to rioting on the square outside the Senate and Executive buildings, giving the Chancellor and his cronies another excuse to further clamp down on liberties. There was still no word about the arrested Senators despite Bail’s best attempts to get information; nobody knew where they were being held or for how long. As Padmé and Bail often discussed, this was unacceptable in a democracy but without the support of the Senate, there was little they could do except wait until the outcome of the two campaigns which were being heralded as the end of the war. Everything seemed to lie on the shoulders of Generals Kenobi and Skywalker.  
A fortnight after Anakin left, Elle was finally released without any explanation. When questioned by Padmé, it seemed that Elle had been kept in complete isolation for the duration of her arrest. Nobody came to her prison cell except to provide food and drink; she had not been questioned, nor did it seem that anyone had been interested in finding out her side of the story. Although this was a relief in some respects, the deception had seemingly not been detected, it raised plenty of new questions.  
“It seems that the Senate is toying with you,” reflected Bail one evening in Padmé’s apartment. “They did not arrest you to find out your real intentions because they know the plot to be an excuse. Instead it is to strike fear into everyone who dares to disagree with the present system, a warning if you like not to meddle with the affairs of the Senate.”  
“And the Chancellor,” pointed out Padmé with sudden insight, “He claimed that his hands were tied by the Senate in this matter but he could have refused to sign the orders of arrest, he has enough power to do so.”  
“Power that he seems to reluctant to use when it goes against his interests,” agreed Bail archly. “But how did you find out about the Chancellor’s position? He has said absolutely nothing about the arrests in public.”  
“It was something Anakin said before he left,” replied Padmé, feeling the amulet close against her skin beneath her tunic, “he tried to ask the Chancellor for leniency but the Chancellor said he could nothing to help.”  
“He is dissembling, of course he could do something to help.” It was especially worrying to the seasoned Senator that even Anakin seemed to have little real influence with the Chancellor. “It becomes more and more apparent to me as time passes that unless Palpatine has a radical change of heart, he will find it difficult to give up the power he has obtained during this war. I cannot see him leaving office without a fight.”  
“I think you are right,” said Padmé with uncharacteristic fatalism, “Our only hope now is the Jedi Council.”  
“I have arranged a meeting with Master Windu on the morrow,” Bail replied, “I think you should come.”

“You have to be kidding me?” In his frustration, Obi-wan had lost all command of the proper language for a Jedi Master and General.  
“No, Sir, We have evidence that General Grievous is once more hiding in the Utapau system.”  
Sighing, Obi-wan examined the holopad with impatience, but he could deny the significance of the information presented to him. After a fruitless criss-crossing of the Galaxy in search of his seemingly impossible foe, Obi-wan was prepared to try anything to get hold of Grievous. It was clear that the cyborg had information of his own as to the whereabouts of Obi-wan Kenobi; every time that they got close to him, he was able to escape their grasp once more. It was the situation of the entire CLONE wars and Obi-wan was beginning to lose his patience, and his sanity. It was at these times that he wished Anakin was with him to lighten the mood.  
“Then we should try a different strategy this time,” he finally said to Commander Uul after digesting all the information in the pad. “I will go alone first to scout the system for Grievous until I have conformation of his presence.”  
“Isn’t that a risky strategy?” pointed out Commander Uul, “the CLONE continue to have considerable resources at their disposal despite the demise of Dooku.”  
“It is risky, yes,” agreed Obi-wan, who hardly cared at this juncture in his military career, “but with respect going in with all guns blazing has not worked either. I suggest that the troops remain close at hand, ready to provide back-up when I call for it but initially I shall make it appear as though I am travelling alone. It might give Grievous the confidence to show himself.”  
“Very well, we will go with the strategy you suggest, General Kenobi.” Uul was as keen as Kenobi for an end to the fruitless searching of the past month; although they had destroyed a suitable amount of CLONE troops and armoury the focus of their objective remained annoyingly elusive. “Hopefully it will retain the element of surprise.”  
“Indeed, that is my objective.”  
“I’ll ensure that your fighter is prepared and ready for departure.”  
“Thank you, Commander.” As the Commander left the strategy room, Obi-wan took a seat next to a nearby console to compose himself. It was not good for a Jedi to be frustrated for that was when mistakes happened, as he knew all too well with Anakin. Closing his eyes, he allowed the calming nature of the Force to fill his spirit, thinking of cool water lapping against a pebbled shore, a peaceful breeze wafting through a summer meadow. However, as he searched for the tranquility he sought, he also felt at the edges of his consciousness a strange disturbance in the Force. It was hard to grasp and he did not want to interrogate it further for it did not mean tranquility but darkness and despair. And he could not help thinking of Anakin.

In the Leybeya system on the very edges of the Outer Rim the six remaining CLONE leaders were gathered, waiting to hear from their nominal leader, General Grievous. At the head of the table sat Nute Gunray, Viceroy of the Trade Federation and next to him San Hill, Chair of the Intergalatic Banking Clan, both with vested interests in destroying the Republic with its complex systems of taxation and treaties. Still committed (if tenuously) to their cause was Pasel Argente, lead Magistrate of the Corporate Alliance, Tikkes of the Quarrel Isolation League, Emir Wat Tambor of the Techno Union and Shu Mai of the Commerce Guild. Since the demise of their true leader, Count Dooku, the CLONE leaders had grown increasingly restless with the apparent failure of Grievous to either finish the war or reach an agreeable settlement with the Republic. They had been promised long ago that it would be a relatively simple matter of attacking the Republic; that spreading its army and Jedi warriors thinly across the Galaxy would cause it to collapse. However, the Republic held on despite repeated attempts by Dooku and Grievous to bring down the Jedi Order. Reduced to hiding in a nondescript system by increasing Republic victories, the CLONE were beginning to wonder if they had done the right thing by joining the Separatists and its motley leadership. Then there was the matter of the mysterious Lord Sidious who had emerged as the Master of Dooku and Darth Maul but whom they had never seen except in hologram form. Some such as Nute Gunray were beginning to think that something suspicious was going on; that the CLONE were being used as pawns in a wider strategy which included the Republic and the Jedi. However, his paranoia as yet had no solid proof and whilst they were being kept at the fringes of the Galaxy it was impossible to access any information than that provided by Grievous. This information was erratic at best and the Council were currently arguing what their strategy would be in the event of Grievous’ failure to defeat the Republic. In the middle of an impassioned debate between Wat Tambor and Shu Mai, who had never seen eye to eye throughout the CLONE wars, the communicator in the centre of the table started to bleep.  
Calling for silence, Nute turned to his aide at a nearby control panel. “This must be Grievous,” he said, the lack of patience with his supposed allies clear in his voice. “Put him up.”  
“Certainly, your Excellency.” The aide pushed the ‘receive’ button and the hologram flickered into view in the centre of the room; however it was clear that the message was not from Grievous. The hologram was of a hooded and cloaked figure, the face so hidden in the depths of the hood that only the eyes, two tiny pinpricks of light, were visible to those gathered in the room.  
“Lord Sidious,” hissed Nute under his breath, wondering what had happened to Grievous.  
“Greetings Council,” said the hologram slowly, the voice low and filled with malevolence. “You were expecting General Grievous?”  
“Yes, my Lord,” said Nute Gunray with newfound civility, “we are waiting to hear from him as to how longer we are to be kept here.”  
“And how we are progressing in the war,” added San Hill, rubbing his hands together anxiously. The atmosphere in the room had become chilly since the appearance of Lord Sidious, despite only being in hologram form.  
“Unfortunately General Grievous is tied up with other matters,” said the hologram briskly. “The Republic has sent a Jedi Master, Obi-wan Kenobi, to assassinate him. At the moment he is fleeing for his life and regrets that this makes it difficult for him to give you his full attention.”  
“My Lord, that is terrible news,” said the Viceroy, looking around the Council with rising panic. If the Republic was closing in on Grievous then that meant it was not long before they would be looking for the rest of the CLONE leaders. “Will we be safe here?”  
“Do not worry, Viceroy,” continued the hologram in a sinister, sneering tone, “You will be safe enough here for the moment.”  
“General Grievous promised us that we could come out of hiding soon,” interjected Shu Mai, impatient to reap some rewards from the long, hard struggle against the Republic, “Is this promise to be honoured?”  
“Do not worry, Shu Mai,” said the hologram, “soon you will join us on Coruscant and take what is rightfully yours.”  
However Nute Gunray was not quite so impressed with the word of Lord Sidious. “With respect, my Lord, we have been told of our impending success over the past two years yet the Republic continues to hang on, even if only by a thread. How can we be certain that you are telling the truth?”  
It was a bold move by the Viceroy and Lord Sidious replied patiently. “I can give you my word that you will not be here for much longer. We are sending to you our potential new apprentice, a young man of considerable promise. I am sending him to you to escort you back to Coruscant.”  
Looks of relief passed around the chamber at the news.  
“Is this, apprentice, a suitable replacement for Dooku?” Nute Gunray asked impatiently. He had admired the former Jedi for his righteousness and sense of honour; his loss had been felt keenly amongst the CLONE leadership.  
“Why yes,” continued the hologram, “soon he will be a considerable asset to us.” Without warning the hologram flickered once more and disappeared, signalling the end of the conversation.  
Angrily, Nute Gunray punched the console in front of him. “More vague promises from this Lord Sidious! If only we knew his motives we could find out what is really to become of us!”  
“Why must you always be so negative?” demanded Shu Mai, shaking her head at his words. “You heard what Lord Sidious said, he is sending his servant to us to take us to Coruscant.”  
“These are but shallow promises,” reacted Nute, pushing aside his aide and going over to the communication panel, “if only we could get in touch with Grievous. He is our leader, not this Sidious!”  
“Sir, a ship is approaching.” Another aide, stationed at a nearby scanner, pointed towards a small blip on the screen.  
“Who is it?” demanded Nute, turning his attention away from the communicator.  
“It’s difficult to tell at this range, but it appears to be a lone fighter.”  
“It must be this apprentice of Sidious,” said San Hill immediately, “we should allow him to land.”  
“Are you certain?” asked Nute, amazed at his colleague’s naivety. Until he had firm proof that the CLONE were being treated with proper respect and consideration for their position he was hardly interested in who Lord Sidious wished to promote as his servant. “It might be a trap.”  
“What say the Council?” said San Hill to the rest of the group; taking a quick vote on the matter, the Council agreed in general that they should ignore Nute and welcome the visitor.  
“Monitor the ship’s progress and allow it to land,” said Wat Tambor to the aide, ignoring the angry glares sent in his direction by Gunray “but have the guards remain on standby.”  
“Yes, sir!”  
Apart from Nute Gunray, who remained aloof from the rest of the Council, the CLONE leaders waited for the new arrival in a state of nervous yet happy anticipation. The knowledge that they were potentially going to be allowed to come out of hiding and return to their position at the top of the pile was intoxicating to them. Summoning one of the aides, Shu Mai ordered the aide to meet the pilot of the fighter as soon as he docked and accompany him to the central chamber. As the aide disappeared into the corridor, the leaders talked energetically amongst themselves about their future plans, which included the development of a large space station to protect their interests in any division of the Republic.  
It was a while before the ship reached the compound and docked on one of the empty landing platforms. Through the communicator, the aide announced the arrival of the ship and his intention to go and greet the pilot.  
“Where could he have got to?” asked Tikkes after a few minutes of anxious waiting; the excitement had only made the Council impatient.  
Nute Gunray only sighed; he had a terrible sense of foreboding but it was pointless to share it with his more naive colleagues.  
Finally the door to the chamber slid open. The CLONE leaders looked up in anticipation as a tall figure entered, accompanied by the aide, his face hooded and darkened with shadows.  
“Who are you?” demanded Wat Tambor, wondering why the new arrival was hiding his identity.  
“Greetings,” said the figure, removing his hood with a flourish to reveal the features of Anakin Skywalker. The shock registering on the faces of the Council in front of him raised a smile, “I’m not who you were expecting?” The ease of his landing and reception outside the compound sheltering the CLONE leaders had made Anakin suspicious, especially when he had been met by an aide rather than a unit of guards or battle droids.  
“Not at all,” replied Shu Mai, recoiling from the sight of a Jedi Knight in their midst “we were expecting a servant of Lord Sidious.”  
Lord Sidious… “How very interesting,” said Anakin, keeping his hands firmly inside his cloak in case he needed to reach his weapon quickly. “Do you know the name of this servant?”  
“We wouldn’t tell you even if we did,” said Tikkes snootily, looking with concern towards Nute Gunray.  
“What are you doing here?” asked Nute Gunray, finally taking an interest in the proceedings now that the young hero of the CLONE Wars had turned up. Did Lord Sidious mean that Anakin Skywalker was to be his next apprentice? Or was that wishful thinking? As far as he, Nute Gunray, knew Anakin was a devoted, even fanatical, member of the Jedi Order and not about to relinquish his allegiance to the Republic.  
“I have come here to negotiate your surrender,” said Anakin, quickly surveying the room to anticipate the forces ranged against him. Along with the six Council leaders, there were about five aides, all unarmed, and four guards, two stationed by the door and two at the opposite end of the room by a second exit. “The Republic knows of your presence here and unless you agree to our terms, I have orders to bomb this compound and everyone in it into oblivion.”  
After taking a moment to digest the calm words of the Jedi, sudden panic gripped the members of the Council, even Nute Gunray. Everything that they feared seemed to be coming true. Despite the words of Lord Sidious, not only had the Republic found them but it had sent one of the most fearsome Jedi Knights to parley with them, Anakin Skywalker who was infamous for his aggressive negotiation skills.  
“As we have said before, we will not negotiate with a Jedi,” complained Nute Gunray, deciding that it was tantamount to suicide to show fear. “You could easily manipulate us to say what you want, rather than what we actually agree to. How can we trust you?”  
“You trusted the word of Count Dooku,” smiled Anakin, fingering his lightsaber hidden beneath his cloak. “He was a Jedi as far as I recall. But wait, no he told you what you wanted to hear, didn’t he?”  
“Count Dooku was working in the best interests of the whole Galaxy,” piped up Wat Tambor, unlike Nute the fear in his voice was unmistakeable, “not only the cronies who run the Republic…”  
“I am not here to debate the ideals of Dooku,” cut in Anakin, already getting impatient, “I am here to negotiate the terms of your surrender. Do you agree to this or not?”  
“We will not negotiate,” said Nute stubbornly, “unless we have another negotiator present and no Republic troops. Those are the only terms and conditions that we will accept.”  
After a few moments of wrangling over the details, with Anakin finally getting the Viceroy to agree that if the Republic could not have any troops present then neither could the CLONE, the young Jedi said pleasantly, hiding his irritation caused by Nute’s intractability, “I will arrange for Sergeant Jaral to come and join us, she is specially trained in peace-keeping and negotiation. Will that suit you?”  
Faced with the alternative, an aerial bombardment from a dominant Republic force, there was little the CLONE leaders could do except agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept the talk between Anakin and Palpatine at the Opera House because I thought that was one of the best scenes in the whole Prequel trilogy, the combination of the strange opera going on in the background, and Palpatine's seductive, if vague, speech to Anakin.


	7. The Sith is Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-wan finally tracks the elusive General Grievous back to Utapau, chasing him through Pau City on a native lizard. They fight, and Grievous dies a horrible death.
> 
> The negotiations with the CLONE turn sour as Nute Gunray attempts to take control of the situation. But he reckons without Anakin, who captures him before he can escape. Incensed with Gunray, he forces him to reveal what he knows about the Sith Lord, who is called Sidious, before accidentally choking him to death. The rest of the CLONE leaders are either killed or captured, leaving the Republic army victorious.
> 
> With the end of the CLONE and Grievous, the Jedi prepare to take the news to the Chancellor, knowing that if he tries to cling onto his power, the Chancellor is behind the purposeful drawing out of the war. But what they discover is even worse than they could have imagined - Palpatine has been the Sith Lord all along.
> 
> WARNING - there is a lot of violence in this chapter.

The planet of Utapau spun quietly in its orbit around its closest star, its rocky crust reflecting green and yellow in the star’s light. Obi-wan stared at it in his viewfinder, feeling a horrible sense of deja vu. He hoped that this time the intelligence they had been given was correct and he was not about to embark upon another disastrous mission to find Grievous. Entering the co-ordinates he had been given into his navicomp, Obi-wan listened to the familiar incomprehensible bleeps of his droid, R4-G9 in response. “Yes R4 we are going back to Utapau, let’s hope we are more successful this time.”  
Starting his descent, Obi-wan concentrated on bringing his fighter down safely rather than admiring the view from his cockpit. The landing pad he was being directed to was located in one of the sinkholes which dotted the planet’s surface, and as he descended into it, he took a moment to notice that he was landing on the outskirts of Pau City, the capital of Utapau. I wonder if there will be anyone to meet us this time he thought as he brought the ship into a graceful standstill on the generous landing platform. “Stay here, R4, and wait for my further orders.”  
The droid bleeped shirtily, knowing full well that it would take at least two technicians to remove him from the ship.  
“Now, now, R4, no need for that kind of language,” tutted Obi-wan, reaching under the seat and retrieving his lightsaber. Springing out of the ship, Obi-wan need not have worried about his reception. Obviously the appearance of the lone Jedi had caused some consternation amongst the city’s inhabitants. A small ground crew immediately came over to check his ship but it was the tall, willowy figure of the city’s administrator, Tion Medon, that caused Obi-wan to hurry over to where the administrator was waiting with two aides. Dressed in the brown, pleated robes of office, Tion Medon was a member of the Pau’an race with his greyish, crinkled skin, sharp teeth and skeletal appearance. However, their appearance was the most fearsome element of the Pau’ans; their temperament was peaceful and languid, preferring not to get caught up in the ravages of the CLONE wars they had tried to maintain their neutrality despite pressure from the CLONE leaders.  
“Greetings, Master Jedi,” said Tion Medon in his rich tones as Obi-wan reached him, “what brings you to this remote part of the Galaxy? You are travelling a long way from Coruscant.”  
The quick eyes of the Jedi had already noticed what appeared to be two cyborgs hovering on the rock ledge above the landing platform, cyborgs very similar to the guards used by General Grievous. Very loudly he replied, “I have unfortunately become detached from my squadron who are operating in the area. With your kind permission I should like to refuel and use your city as a base as I search for them in nearby systems.”  
“Certainly,” Tion Medon motioned with his large hand towards one of the ground crew, “Check over Master…?”  
“Kenobi.”  
“Check over Master Kenobi’s ship and ensure that it is refuelled.” Turning back to the Jedi, Tion asked him what the strategy of the squadron could be to be out so far in the Outer Rim.  
“We are searching for General Grievous,” replied Obi-wan, more quietly this time, “we have reason to believe that he is hiding close to Malastare-”  
“He is here!” hissed Tion, leaning in closer to the Jedi. “We are being held hostage.” The large eyes of the Pau’un drifted upwards towards the rocky outcrop above, “They are watching us.”  
Trying not to cough as Tion’s terrible breath hit his nostrils, Obi-wan nodded. “I understand.”  
“They are hiding on the tenth level,” continued Tion, “he has thousands of battle droids at his disposal.”  
Digesting the information quickly, Obi-wan warned, “Tell your people to take shelter. If you have warriors, now is the time.”  
“I’ll see what can be done,” muttered Tion Medon before saying more loudly, “Your refuel is complete, Master Jedi. We hope you find your missing squadron.”  
“Thank you,” Bowing, Obi-wan went back to his fighter as Tion Medon left the landing platform to report back to the waiting cyborgs. Climbing back into his ship, Obi-wan put the next part of his plan into action. “R4 I want you to return to the Defender. Tell Commander Uul I’ve made contact and await my further orders.”  
The droid bleeped a question.  
“No, I’m staying here. I’m going hunting.”

The negotiations with the CLONE leaders had already lasted several hours and despite the calm, authoritative demeanour of Sergeant Jaral and the threat of brute force hanging over them, the CLONE were reluctant to agree on any terms presented to them. Nothing that the Republic was prepared to offer to the CLONE leaders was acceptable to them; they clearly wanted power and the means by which to use that power. If Anakin had been impatient before, the failure of the talks to reach a conclusion filled him with unbearable frustration. Surely the CLONE leaders knew that they were losing the war; however, they refused to acknowledge this, claiming that as long as Grievous was alive and Lord Sidious offered them protection, they were in a strong position to dictate the terms of their surrender. Clearly the connection with Lord Sidious made them bold; they kept wittering on about waiting for his new servant to escort them to Coruscant where they would be given protection and everything that they felt they deserved. To Anakin this was more than enough evidence that the Sith were behind the war; as Obi-wan and he had talked about, the CLONE had either been in league with or manipulated by the Sith to achieve ends as yet unknown. However, it was clear to Anakin’s mind that the Sith desired an end to the Republic and he knew that only by neutralising the threat from the CLONE could they concentrate on finding the Sith and bringing this Lord Sidious to justice.  
Another hour passed by and still there was no hope of a conclusion. Conferring alone at the side of the central chamber, Sergeant Jaral expressed her concerns to Anakin that they would never reach a conclusion as long as the CLONE leaders remained ignorant to the decline of their forces across the Galaxy.  
“This Lord Sidious seems to have filled them with a false confidence about the reality of the war,” she whispered hurriedly, knowing that to take their eyes away from the CLONE leaders for long was risky. “Until they know the truth, we are not in a position to offer them anything that they will accept.”  
“I agree,” Anakin whispered back, “they are too puffed up with their own importance to give an inch. I can see no way forward other than to arrest them and order the destruction of the compound. We can then deal with them on Coruscant…”  
Without warning, Jaral suddenly pitched forward and Anakin caught her in his arms. Immediately he saw the reason for her collapse; a wound in her back was slowly seeping blood onto her tunic, the burnt edges of the tunic pointing to a laser weapon. Incensed, Anakin looked up to see Nute Gunray standing across from him, a blaster in his hand pointing straight at him.  
“Now young Jedi, we will do the negotiating,” said Nute nastily, keeping his blaster trained at the Jedi’s head. “Put Sergeant Jaral down and your hands up.”  
It was too late to try and save her, Anakin knew that the laser blast had killed her instantly. Gently, ever watchful of the blaster trained upon him, Anakin lowered the body of his comrade down to the ground. Her eyes remained open and he made to close them but Nute barked at him, “Leave that alone and put your hands where I can see them!”  
Placing his hands in the air, Anakin said with all the calm he could muster, “I don’t think this is going to help your cause much.”  
“It is not up to you to dictate events,” sneered the Viceroy, his arrogance returning now that he had the so-called hero of the Republic within his grasp. “We will decide the terms of our surrender and you will take them back to your leaders. If you refuse we will execute you now and send our conditions back with your head. Do you understand?”  
Swallowing, Anakin could feel the anger growing inside him. “Certainly, Viceroy Gunray.”  
The Viceroy obviously had not noticed the new note of menace in Anakin’s voice and he waved the blaster again in his direction, “Come, Jedi, you and your feeble Republic are no match for the CLONE, it has taken you years to find us and now you cannot even prevent your chief negotiator from being killed. Some Jedi you are, I thought you were supposed to be able to see the future?”  
“We can,” said Anakin, deftly reaching into his cloak and reaching for his lightsaber, “when we can control the future!”  
Nute Gunray was slow to react and Anakin had turned on his lightsaber before he could get a shot at him; but he was soon blasting away, yelling to someone to call for the guards and arrest the young Jedi. Calmly, Anakin deflected the laser bolts headed his way, the other wild shots crashing into consoles, tables, anything but the intended target.  
Chaos erupted as the CLONE leaders responded to the situation in the only way they knew: panic. “Someone call the guards,” yelled Wat Tambor, whilst Shu Mai pressed a button under the table which opened a panel in the wall. Calling for the other leaders to follow her, she ran off down the corridor without a second glance.  
It was not long before the doors to the chamber opened and guards rushed in, their weapons raised. Pausing only to deflect another wild shot from Gunray, Anakin launched himself against the guards, putting himself between the CLONE leader and the means of escape taken by his five colleagues. It was easy enough to dispatch the guards that had entered the chamber; closing and locking the doors prevented any more from adding to their ranks. After he had finished with the guards, Anakin searched for the main protagonist and the focus of his rage who seemed to have disappeared. About to give up the search and head off after the rest of the Council, he suddenly saw the hem of rich velvet tunic just poking out from under a nearby console. Looking more closely he could just see Nute Gunray underneath, wedged into the tiniest of spaces.  
“What have we here?” Reaching in, he grabbed Gunray’s leg and bodily dragged him out from under the console.  
“Let go of me, you filthy Jedi!” shrieked Gunray, trying to resist him but finding it impossible as he was forced kicking and screaming into the chamber, “You are not fit to touch someone of my lineage and rank!”  
“You can’t talk about nobility when you just killed my comrade in cold blood,” spat Anakin, watching coldly as the Viceroy cowered on the floor beneath him. “Now, tell me about your connection to Lord Sidious.”  
Under the shadow of the lightsaber, Nute Gunray tried to be defiant, “I will tell you nothing!”  
Reaching down, Anakin grabbed the Viceroy around the neck and lifted him bodily into the air, the gears in his mechanical arm whining in protest. “Come now, you’re in no position to be stubborn!”  
“Lord Sidious will kill you and all your Jedi comrades!” spluttered the Viceroy, kicking his legs feebly, trying to escape the clutches of the Jedi. “He promised me!”  
“And how does this Sidious have so much power?” asked Anakin calmly despite the adrenaline rushing through his system. “Lord Dooku thought the same and he ended up decapitated.”  
Fearing for his life, Nute Gunray blurted out, “Lord Sidious knows all about the Jedi… he knows everything that goes on in the Republic. He gave Dooku the details of the Army strategy… so we could evade your forces. He promised us power and riches beyond our imaginings if we… promised to support him. Dooku told us… he is more powerful than any Jedi he knows… he has the power to manipulate others to do his will… he has manipulated the Senate… for years now…”  
“Then Dooku wasn’t lying, this Sidious must be the Sith Lord on Coruscant,” murmured Anakin to himself, not noticing the pressure that he was exerting on the Viceroy was impeding his breathing. By the time he turned his attention back to the CLONE leader, Nute Gunray was dead, his body limp. Shaking his head, Anakin casually flung his broken body onto the floor. “Shame, that conversation was just starting to get interesting.”  
Before he made to follow the rest of the CLONE leaders, Anakin turned on his comlink. “Commander Jerjerrod?”  
“Receiving you, General Skywalker.”  
“Negotiations have broken down, Commander, the CLONE have proved intractable. Requesting backup to capture the CLONE leaders. Put the fleet on standby.”  
“As you wish, General Skywalker.”  
Determined, Anakin set off down the corridor to cut off the escape of the remaining CLONE leaders. The thought that they had been in league with the Sith filled him with a new purpose, adding to the many crimes which they had perpetuated during the war. The attempted assassination of Senator Amidala, their attempted execution on Geonosis, and the endless humiliations endured from the Republic’s inability to bring the leaders of the CLONE to justice. It would be difficult to restrain himself from killing them so incensed was he by their arrogance and reliance on the protection of this mysterious Lord Sidious; already he could feel the hot rush of anger, adrenalin and resolve propelling him onwards.  
It was not long before he found the remaining CLONE leaders, waiting to board a sleek, expensive looking space cruiser. The surrounding guards immediately opened fire on him as soon as he appeared in the hanger, the CLONE turning around in horror when they saw the advancing Jedi. They had assumed he was dead.  
“Get this ship ready,” screamed Shu Mai, hurrying up the ramp into the ship, “quickly, hurry!”  
Flinging out an arm, Anakin quickly disabled the ship’s operating system, making it impossible for the ship to take off, before dispatching another two of the guards. Yet the CLONE leaders were not to be subdued so easily; grabbing weapons from onboard the ship, they blasted away at Anakin as he fought the steady stream of guards coming at him from the rest of the complex.  
“Blast it!” cried the young Jedi as a stray laser blast caught him on the arm, tearing through the fabric of his tunic. Where were his reinforcements? However, he could not deny that he felt a surge of power thrill though him as he faced the odds stacked against him; he could feel the strength growing within him as he accepted that it was only through harnessing his anger that he could finally become the great man he always wanted to be.

By the time the Republic troops entered the hangar of the compound, they found a scene of destruction. Dead and dying bodies and the twisted parts of battle droids scattered the floor, testament to Anakin’s grim determination in facing the resistance from the CLONE leaders. They found the Jedi collapsed to the side of the cruiser’s ramp, exhausted and bleeding from multiple wounds, trying to patch them up as best he could with fabric ripped from his cloak.  
Hurrying over to him, Commander Jejerrod knelt down beside him, “General Skywalker, are you okay?”  
“I think so,” panted Anakin, tying a knot in the fabric tied around his leg and giving the Commander his full attention. “Where have you been?”  
“We faced a lot of resistance from the CLONE troops in the compound,” explained the Commander, “but we are on top of things now. Did you manage to capture any of the CLONE leaders?”  
“Two are severely wounded but still alive,” said Anakin, nodding his head towards the cruiser. “I couldn’t find anything to bind them with so I locked them inside one of the cupboards.”  
“Good. We better get you to a medical team,” said Jejerrod dispassionately, straightening up and holding out his hand to the Jedi.  
Using the Commander’s hand to get to his feet, Anakin nodded. “They may be losing the war, but they refuse to accept it.”  
“Panic is a great motivator. Anyway, we’ll get the CLONE, you head back to the ship,” said the Commander, motioning to two Republic troops to follow him, “then we’ll blow this compound to smithereens. The CLONE won’t be able to use it again.”  
“Good,” said Anakin, “I’ll report on our success back to High Command.” As he hobbled away from the hangar, he felt a sudden thrill of excitement. With the death or capture of the remaining CLONE leaders they were halfway to winning the war; he quietly asked the Force that Obi-wan could be as successful with Grievous.

Emerging from his hiding place, Obi-wan surveyed the now empty landing platform. He had worked out that he was at least on the second or third level of the sinkhole; to get to the tenth level would require some form of transport if he was to be in a fit state to face General Grievous at the end of the journey. Peering through his electrobinoculars he could see a sizeable force of battle droids lurking in the shadows of the rock face; clearly Grievous was well guarded and an element of surprise would surely work in his favour. He hoped that Tion Medon’s explanation of a simple refuel would be enough to lure the CLONE into a false sense of security.  
Entering the city via a hallway cut out of the rock, Obi-wan looked around for a suitable means of transport. Unlike many planets, the sheer inconvenience of living inside rock-hewn caverns meant that options were limited unless the inhabitants wanted to choke to death on exhaust fumes. Here and there he could see inhabitants walking with, or riding on, large lizard-like creatures, which also seemed to be the dominant means of hauling carts and produce around the streets. As he hurried along, he heard bellowing cries and strange noises emanating from one of the many corrals dotting the street. It turned out to be a pen for holding several of the lizard creatures; their handlers were standing around having a drink and a smoke when Obi-wan approached.  
Holding up his hand surreptitiously, Obi-wan said quietly, “Hello friends, I am looking for some transportation.”  
“Ah, welcome my friend,” said one of the handlers in his native tongue, dropping his cigarette to the floor immediately, “are you looking for some transportation?”  
“Yes please,” smiled Obi-wan, “can you get it for me?”  
“Certainly, I will get it for you,” said the handler; his friendliness was obviously a surprise to his companions, who only stared at him in amazement. “Which one would you like?”  
The lizards were medium-sized creatures with crested spikes on their heads and dark, flashing eyes. Obi-wan remembered his last excursion on a lizard and looked for one which seemed more docile. “What about that one?”  
“That is Boga,” said the handler, coming over to where Obi-wan was pointing. “She is a very good girl is Boga. You will like her. Are you going to ride her or ask her to haul?”  
“Ride her,” replied Obi-wan, going over to Boga as the handler went to fetch a saddle. “Hello, girl.”  
The lizard stuck out an inquiring tongue and licked Obi-wan’s proffered hand. The tongue was rough and unpleasant but obviously Boga decided she liked the Jedi as she started to make soft cooing noises in response. Obi-wan patted her shoulder, “That’s good, you seem docile enough.”  
After the handler had fitted the saddle, Obi-wan was ready to set off up to the tenth level. Swinging up onto Boga’s back, he whispered in her ear “up we go” and obediently the lizard scurried out of the rock cavern and to the edge of the sinkhole, before starting to climb the wall of the sheer cliff. Gripping her flanks tightly with his thighs, Obi-wan was glad that he had not eaten for a while; the movement of the lizard up the cliff wall was steady but she swayed with a rhythm which took the Jedi some getting used to. Still, he could not argue with the lizard’s speed and soon he was making rapid progress towards the tenth level.

Meanwhile on the tenth level, General Grievous was in a flummox. Reports of a Jedi landing in Pau City ostensibly to refuel had made him nervous; however, he was not able to get in contact with Lord Sidious to determine his next move. Instead, all he could do was sit and wait for instructions. The recent strategy of the CLONE had been largely one of resistance and holding on to any gains they had made rather than any firm plans. So far Lord Sidious had told him of any imminent Jedi approaching, including the last time he had been present on Utapau, but this time there was complete silence. This worried Grievous more than anything; what if his usefulness had finally served its course?  
Calling over to an aide, Grievous decided that he would move to another sinkhole in case he had been betrayed by the leaders on Utapau. He knew that they resented his presence on their planet and would do anything to restore their neutrality in the war. That was how the Republic had learned of his presence here the previous time and he was certain that another leak must have occurred to have another Jedi Knight sniffing around. “Start moving the troops from this level,” he commanded, coughing as his systems overloaded with the stress, “and get my speeder ready.”  
“Yes, sir.”  
Watching the movement of the troops from his hiding place on the rock face, Obi-wan waited until Grievous was left with only a small retinue. Then he popped out onto the platform with a cheery “Hello, there!”  
Spinning around, the cyborg’s eyes narrowed as he took in the Jedi Master. “So it was you! General Kenobi, you are a bold one. But also a stupid one, surely you realise that you are doomed?”  
“I don’t feel doomed,” replied Obi-wan with a smile, removing his cloak. “Now Grievous…”  
But Grievous was in no mood for talking; gesturing to his bodyguards he yelled, “Kill him!”  
The bodyguards raised their weapons towards the Jedi Master but he ducked and rolled to end up behind them, striking them with his lightsaber. It was not enough to disable them and the fight continued for several minutes, watched carefully by General Grievous. It was obvious to him that his droids were no match for the Jedi and this was confirmed in another moment as Kenobi brought down a section of equipment from the rock ceiling which crushed them into tiny pieces.  
“Oops,” said Obi-wan, “I seem to have made a lot of damage. Are you ready to talk yet?”  
“I don’t talk to Jedi scum,” said Grievous, grabbing at the lightsabers hanging from his belt. “If my droids are no match for you, I will deal with you myself.”  
“Oh good,” replied Obi-wan cheerfully, “I enjoy a challenge.”  
“You forget I was trained by Count Dooku,” sneered the cyborg, rushing towards the Jedi in fury.  
“And you forget that I trained the Jedi who defeated Count Dooku,” returned Obi-wan, steeling himself against the four arms of the cyborg, each with its deadly lightsaber in hand. It was clear that Grievous was still a formidable opponent and it took all of Obi-wan’s energy and ability to prevent himself becoming another victim whilst also defending himself against the battle droids which continued to harass him with their weapons. However, after a while he sensed the cyborg was weakening, the systems keeping him alive were clearly slowing down as the stress on his limbs and mental processes increased.   
An explosion echoed through the sinkhole, distracting Grievous’ attention. This gave Obi-wan a chance to renew his efforts and he sliced off one of the cyborg’s arms, causing him to gasp with surprise and anger. “Jedi scum!”  
Seeing that the Republic army had replied to his summons and were beginning to descend into the sinkhole, Obi-wan could not help a small amount of triumph creeping into his voice; “I may not defeat your droids, Grievous, but fortunately I did not come alone.”  
“Army or not,” gasped the cyborg, returning to the offensive as he pushed the Jedi back towards the edge of the platform, “you and your Republic are doomed!”  
“I don’t think so,” replied Obi-wan but another explosion, closer to their position, distracted him. It gave Grievous a chance to escape to his speeder; leaping onto the machine, he was already powered up and away before Obi-wan could reach him, his progress impeded by another squadron of battle droids.  
“Looks like you could use some help,” came a stern voice from behind him; it was Commander Uul and the first squadron of Republic troops to reach the sinkhole.  
“Yes, you take these, I’ll get after Grievous,” shouted Obi-wan over the noise of the laser and chaos as the Republic troops streamed into the sinkhole. Retreating to the edge of the platform he whistled loudly and Boga appeared, eager to be on the move again. “Good girl, Boga.” Jumping into the saddle, Obi-wan set off after Grievous. This time the lizard was moving down the cliff face, sending Obi-wan’s stomach into new paroxysms and not for the first time he wished he was back on Coruscant in the peaceful surroundings of the Jedi Temple. All around the sounds of the battle raging between the Republic and CLONE troops echoed throughout the sinkhole, creating panic and fear amongst the populace. It made concentration difficult but soon Obi-wan spotted Grievous’ speeder, making for a tunnel entrance at the base of the sinkhole.   
“There he is Boga,” shouted Obi-wan, spurring his lizard on with his boot, “follow that speeder!”  
The speeder was fast but Boga was agile and used to the difficult terrain of the rock formations and Obi-wan soon caught up with the escaping General in the tunnel. He followed the General for miles through the cavernous tunnels until finally they both emerged into another, smaller sinkhole. Grievous was clearly headed for a landing platform halfway up the sinkhole where a small fighter was waiting. Patiently, Obi-wan spurred on the exhausted Boga for one last time until he was almost side by side with the General.  
Seeing the Jedi Master appearing next to him, Grievous narrowed his eyes, “Will I never get rid of you, Jedi scum!”  
“Not yet,” cried Obi-wan, launching himself off the lizard and onto the General’s speeder, at the same time knocking the General onto the ground. Deprived of a rider, the speeder crashed into the wall of the cavern, Obi-wan leaping off nimbly just before it crashed to come to a graceful landing over the prone body of Grievous. However, the cyborg was surprisingly quick to get to his feet, lightsaber in his each of his remaining three hands and, coughing horribly, threw himself at the Jedi.   
Reaching down into his belt, Obi-wan realised with horror that his lightsaber was no longer there. “Blast it!” He must have lost it when he was chasing after the General.  
“Lost something, Obi-wan?” laughed the General before collapsing into another fit of coughing. Blindly he slashed at Obi-wan, who had to be fast to escape the whirring blades. There was little Obi-wan could do except use his hands and his fists to attack the droid, trusting his instinct and ability to avoid the flashing lightsabers aimed at him clumsily by the clearly damaged cyborg. It was not long before he was able to take one of the lightsabers for himself, which gave him a better chance of defeating the cyborg.  
“You should surrender,” sneered the General, after wounding Obi-wan in the arm, “puny Jedi are no match for me!”  
“Oh, you think so,” said Obi-wan; seeing that the General’s breastplate was loose, he parried an attack from the two remaining lightsabers before using the tip of the weapon to pull the breastplate away, revealing the organic heart of the cyborg.  
Incensed that his weakness had been discovered, Grievous threw all his energy into disarming the impertinent Jedi before grabbing him and throwing him towards the edge of the platform. As Obi-wan skidded along the ground he looked for something to grab hold of but there was little except for the edge of the platform, which he clung to for dear life.  
Seeing the predicament of the Jedi, Grievous gripped his lightsabers tightly and made his way over to the edge of the platform, gloating, “This is the end of you, Obi-wan Kenobi.”  
Seeing the droid advance towards him, Obi-wan gripped the platform tightly, clearing his mind of all distraction. It was then that he saw the blaster at Grievous’ hip. Shifting position slightly, he raised his hand and called the blaster to him, aiming and firing several times at the organic sac directly in his line of vision.  
With a terrible cry, Grievous collapsed to the ground, his sac emptying its disgusting contents onto the landing platform. His arms and legs thrashed around in horrible death throes, the mechanics going into overload as they sought to compensate for the loss of the organic matter which powered the cyborg. “Jedi… scum…” gasped Grievous, overtaken by a terrible coughing fit as his life ebbed away.  
Disgusted by the scene, Obi-wan chucked the blaster away into the bottom of the sinkhole before hauling himself back up to the landing platform. Skirting around the dying droid, he picked up one of the remaining lightsabers and swiftly decapitated the cyborg, putting him out of his misery. For a few moments, the arms and legs twitched, then stopped moving altogether. The head itself sparked but it was only a few seconds before the eyes grew dim and Grievous was no more.  
Exhausted and appalled by events, Obi-wan collapsed to the ground next to the dead body of the cyborg. “So uncivilised,” he muttered. Yet, he reflected, it was finally the end of General Grievous. The CLONE no longer had a military strategist at their head; he wondered how Anakin was doing with bringing the CLONE leaders to justice.

Back on the Republic battle cruiser, Obi-wan was waiting to communicate with the Jedi Council back on Coruscant. The transmission had been delayed by various problems and he was beginning to wonder if he would ever get through.  
“General Kenobi, we have made contact with Coruscant,” said a young aide sat next to the communication panel, “we’re putting you through now to the Jedi Council.”  
“Finally, thank you,” replied Obi-wan making sure that he was properly facing the communicator. He did not want the Council to miss any of his important message.  
In front of him, tiny holograms of Masters Mace Windu, Ki ali mundi, Agen Kolar, Koth and Kit Fisto appeared, obviously the only Jedi Masters left on Coruscant. “Greetings Obi-wan Kenobi,” said Mace in his soothing tones, “can we count on this conversation being between us only?”  
“Yes, Master Windu we have used the new encryption code that you have sent us.”  
“Good. We trust you have some important news for us?”  
“I do,” replied Obi-wan, folding his hands together inside his long tunic sleeves, “General Grievous is dead and the CLONE have been routed from Utapau. The Republic army is subduing the remnants of the CLONE forces as we speak.”  
“This is most excellent news,” replied Ki ali mundi, his tone expressing great joy, “we have recently heard from General Skywalker that he and his forces have destroyed the CLONE compound on Leybeya and are returning to Coruscant with two of its leaders for questioning.”  
“Only two of its leaders?” asked Obi-wan, wondering what had happened on Leybeya, “does that include Nute Gunray?”  
“Unfortunately not,” explained Mace, his hologram shifting and flickering as the craft moved through space debris, “the CLONE put up a far greater resistance than anticipated by High Command, it seems they were motivated towards aggression rather than acceptance of the terms of surrender offered by the Republic. However, from what Anakin has told us we can confirm that the CLONE were in league with a Sith Lord who was able to give them details of sensitive Republic information to help them in their resistance to our armies.”  
“You mean this Lord Sidious that Dooku spoke of?”  
“Yes, once we receive the remaining CLONE leaders on Coruscant we can question them further as to their connections with the Sith.”  
“We now know how much danger the Republic is in,” continued Ki ali mundi, “and we are going to have to act quickly if we are to prevent this Sith Lord from gaining control in the aftermath of the war.”  
“What are your plans?” asked Obi-wan, feeling a sharp sense of foreboding in the depths of his stomach. It was one thing to win the war, another to anticipate the next move of the elusive Sith.  
“Now that we have confirmation that the Republic is winning the war, we will take this information to the Chancellor. We have joined forces with a group of senators who remain loyal to the vision of the Republic as it was before the war,” explained Mace. “With their support we will demand that he rescind the emergency powers that he was granted and resign immediately from office. We will suggest that in the interim, a provisional government led by trusted senators such as Bail Organa and Padmé Amidala will take leadership of the Republic with the full support of the Jedi Council.”  
“It may be that the Jedi will need to take physical control of the Senate in the meantime to ensure a peaceful transition,” suggested Ki ali Mundi, “although once Anakin returns to Coruscant he will provide an important bridge between the three institutions and a show of force may not be necessary.”  
“We will need to be careful,” said Obi-wan, digesting this information quickly. “We still do not know the identity of the Sith behind the CLONE’s plotting. Any action taken by the Jedi Council may provoke the Sith into causing even more damage.”  
“You speak with wisdom, Obi-wan,” said Mace, “we must be ready for any action that the Sith may take to maintain their position.”  
“You must return to Coruscant will all haste, Obi-wan,” said Ki ali mundi, “we need as many Jedi present in the capital as we can. We do not expect the Chancellor or the majority of the Senate to accede to our demands without a struggle.”  
With the meeting over, Obi-wan mused over the implications of the Council’s actions. It seemed dangerous to him to confront the Chancellor without knowing more about the identity of the Sith Lord at the centre of events. However, as had been proved again and again during the war, not to act was to support the rot that had set in at the heart of the Republic.  
“Master Kenobi, a message is coming through from the Probity.”  
Coming out of his meditation, Obi-wan recognised the name of the Republic battle cruiser, “Patch it through, please.”  
Turning back to the communicator, the hologram of Anakin appeared. “Hello, Obi-wan.”  
“Anakin!” Obi-wan was overjoyed to see his friend, “how are you doing, old friend? I heard about your success on Leybeya.”  
“You have? Good news obviously travels fast.”  
“I have just spoken to the Council,” explained Obi-wan, “they told me that you have routed the CLONE on Leybeya but not without some trouble.”  
“Yes, they put up a strong resistance,” said the hologram of Anakin, flickering in and out, “the CLONE… refused to accept our terms of surrender… murdered the negotiator. I could only capture two alive, the rest… perished along with the compound.”  
“It is a shame that they cannot all be held to account for their crimes,” said Obi-wan, only making out Anakin’s words with great difficulty, “you also found out that the CLONE had connections with the Sith Lord that Dooku mentioned?”  
“Yes, Nute Gunray openly admitted to it,” said Anakin more clearly, the communication channel finally stabilising, “apparently they were waiting for the servant of this Sith Lord when I arrived to take them to Coruscant. It seems that the Sith had convinced the CLONE they were about to win the war.”  
“So the Sith has been lying to those he would support,” said Obi-wan thoughtfully, “the Council are going to have to be very careful if they are to find and defeat him.”  
“Is that what the Council intend?” asked Anakin, wondering what had been happening on Coruscant since his departure.  
“They have formed an alliance with a group of trustworthy senators, including Bail Organa and Padmé Amidala,” replied Obi-wan. “Once the confirmation of the defeat of the CLONE becomes knowledge, they are going to demand that the Chancellor and the Senate restore the Republic constitution as it was before the war and ask the Chancellor to stand down so the Senate can choose his successor.”  
“And if the Chancellor and the Senate refuse?”   
“Then the Council will suggest the formation of a provisional government to take over the Republic to fulfil these actions, similar to what happened when the Chancellor was abducted. It will be in the best interests of the Republic; if the Chancellor refuses to step down, and the Senate supports him, then we know that there is a more insidious motivation behind his taking of power.”  
On the Probity, Anakin’s mind was already racing with the implications of Obi-wan’s words. It was exactly as the Chancellor had warned him before he had left Coruscant; the Jedi were planning an insurrection to take over the Republic and restore their own position at the very top of government. However, Obi-wan’s choice of word, insidious, also reminded him that the Sith Lord might be behind the determination of the Chancellor and the Senate to remain in power. They might be his puppets. “Then the actions of the Council may force the Sith out into the open?”  
“That is what they are hoping,” said Obi-wan carefully, “but I do not agree with their plan of action, I think it is very dangerous. By forcing the hand of the Sith we risk the very Republic itself.”  
“I agree but until we get back to Coruscant, we can do very little,” complained Anakin, “how far are you away?”  
“It will take us about a week to return, there are still pockets of resistance here.”  
“We will be back in three days time,” said Anakin, glancing over the holopad at his side. “Until you return, I will see what I can do to get the Council to heed more caution. If only we could find out the identity of the Sith, we will stand a better chance of defeating him.”  
“Yes, one of the problems is we do not know what we are dealing with,” mused Obi-wan, “a little more information would surely help us. Do what you can, Anakin, to find out from the CLONE leaders in your custody any information they have about the Sith. They may at the least be able to provide a description or information as to what access this Sith has to the institutions of government. We can investigate further when we return to the capital.”  
“Yes, Master,” agreed Anakin, “I’ll carry out your suggestion straight away, until then may the Force be with you.”  
“May the Force be with you, Anakin.” The hologram flickered once more then disappeared.

That night Anakin dreamed that the Chancellor was calling to him, “Anakin, Anakin, help me!” At first he could not see the source of the Chancellor’s distress; he was in the corridor leading to his office, it was too dark to see what was happening but as he moved into the main chamber he could see that Palpatine was cowering on his knees, surrounded by several Jedi Masters, their faces blurred and shifting in the half-light. The Chancellor looked terrified as four lightsabers were held at his throat. In the middle of the group was Mace Windu, his face like thunder as he demanded the Chancellor give up his powers. The pleading eyes of the Chancellor turned to Anakin, “Help me please! The Jedi are trying to kill me!” But Mace only said, “He must be killed, he is a traitor to the Republic. He cannot live!” And before Anakin could do anything, the lightsabers flashed and the Chancellor’s head was severed from his body. By some invisible agency the head flew through the air and landed at Anakin’s feet, its eyes open and staring at him, the mouth contorted in horror as it silently mouthed, “Help me.”

Stepping from their transport, Jedi Masters Mace Windu, Agen Kolar, Ki ali Mundi and Kit Fisto, all seasoned heroes of the CLONE wars, began the slow walk towards the Chancellor’s offices. It had been three days since the confirmation of the success of the Republic’s forces and the official end to the CLONE wars, however there had still been no word from the Chancellor or the Senate as to how quickly the emergency powers granted to the Executive would be overturned. Frequent calls to the Chancellor’s office had been met with evasion and silence, and the Senate had not yet been called to discuss the future of the Republic as might be expected. Within the Temple this had confirmed the Council’s suspicions that the Chancellor and his supporters in the Senate had never intended to give up the powers that he had been granted. There had been much debate about the Jedi’s next move; to do nothing would suggest that they agreed with the situation but Master Koth and his supporters had refused to endorse any action on the part of the Jedi. In the end, after two days of endless meetings and bickering over their approach, Master Windu had made the decision to confront the Chancellor and find out his intentions. At the very least, it would determine whether the plan to replace him with a provisional government was heavy-handed or sensible. Ki ali Mundi would have preferred the Council to wait until the return of the remaining Jedi Masters and Knights from where they were stationed across the Galaxy, mopping up the remnants of the CLONE forces, but Master Windu was adamant that the Council did not, at this stage, need to threaten the Chancellor. Four Jedi Masters were, in his view, an adequate number to show the Chancellor that they were serious.  
The sky had darkened as they approached the towering edifice which housed the offices of the Executive, the last waning rays of the sun disappearing behind the tall towers. As the four Jedi Masters headed across the windy platform, went through the entrance and plunged into the hallway, they felt a sense of foreboding; the atmosphere was incredibly cold and clammy. What was even more surprising, however, was the lack of resistance to their entrance. The red-cloaked guards respectfully let them pass, and Palpatine’s aide Dar Wac made no attempt to block their way or prevent them from seeing the Chancellor as previous calls to the Office had implied. Instead he helpfully pointed to the office at the end of the hallway, saying that they could find the Chancellor in there. To the Jedi it was most unexpected - because it seemed that they were expected.  
The found the Chancellor quietly sitting at his desk, calmly reading details of the results of the Utapau and Leybeya campaigns.  
As the Jedi entered, Palpatine looked up with interest, a beatific smile on his face. “Ah, Master Windu. This is a most unexpected and pleasant surprise, please sit down.”  
“It will only be a brief visit, Chancellor Palpatine, we would prefer to stand.”  
The Chancellor sighed; Master Windu had never been one for polite chat. “As you wish. What can I do for you?”  
“We have come to secure your word that you are planning to relinquish the generous powers granted to you by the Senate at the beginning of the CLONE wars almost four years ago,” said Mace in his commanding tones, “powers that you yourself promised to give up as soon as the war was ended.”  
“Yes, I remember that promise well,” agreed the Chancellor, settling back into his chair. “However, as yet the Senate have not confirmed the end of the war, therefore they will not expect me to relinquish anything-”  
“The capture of the CLONE leaders and the death of General Grievous is the confirmation you need,” argued Mace, sensing a dangerous stubbornness beneath the geniality of the Chancellor. “Why do you delay or are you planning to retain your powers?”  
“If the Senate wish it,” said Palpatine, his mouth still smiling but his eyes were cold.  
“Then when will the Senate be meeting to discuss the future of the Republic?”  
“When I wish it.”  
“The Senate should not be governed by the whims of the Executive,” said Ki ali Mundi in horror, “it is the Senate which should decide your fate!”  
Palpatine only laughed, “I think you’ll find I have the full support of the Senate.”  
“Not their full support,” interjected Mace Windu, beginning to lose his patience with the intransigence of the Chancellor, “we know of Senators who would assist us in our efforts to restore the Republic to the democracy it enjoyed before the war, senators who have not been corrupted by greed and the desire for power as you seem to have been!”  
The Chancellor’s face suddenly darkened, all pretence at amiability swept away. “Are you threatening me, Master Windu?” He spoke quietly but his words were loaded with menace. “Tell me, who are these Senators who you claim to have support from?”  
“The Delegation of the Two Thousand, amongst others who are currently too afraid of reprisals to speak out against the Executive’s tyranny.”  
“A group of rebels and insurgents then,” said the Chancellor, getting up from his chair. “You are more foolish than I thought, Master Windu,” he continued, “if you think the Senate will listen to them or to the Jedi Council. You have done well to keep yourselves away from the nasty business of politics and yet now, when your control is dwindling, you finally think to do something about it.”  
Remaining calm, Mace stood his ground. “I wouldn’t be too hasty Chancellor, the Republic is not finished yet.”   
Advancing towards them, Palpatine smiled darkly. “I have always wondered how the Jedi have survived for so long considering the ridiculous amount of faith they place on such fragile and easily corruptible institutions as the Republic!” Then, without warning, Palpatine reached into his robes and pulled out a lightsaber of baleful red, leaping forward to attack the four Jedi.  
“Watch out!” cried Master Windu, pulling out his own lightsaber and moving quickly out of the way of the Chancellor’s brutal attack. What was more surprising - the fact that an elderly man was able to move with such speed and ferocity or that the Chancellor was the Sith Lord they had been searching for!   
Immediately Palpatine’s skill and aggression became apparent as soon as he dispensed with the frail and kindly demeanour he had hidden behind for so many years. The Jedi Masters were strong but were no match for a cunning Sith warrior; Kit Fisto was the first to go down as the Chancellor ran him through with his blade; as he parried an attack from Mace, he spun round so fast he managed to slash Agen Kolar across the face before slicing off his head in one move. Ki ali Mundi watched in horror as Agen’s head bounced down the steps, its blank eyes staring, mouth contorted, leaving him open to the Chancellor who severed his fighting hand, blocked a thrust from Windu so forcibly it sent him flying across the room, then finished Mundi off, cackling as the red blade plunged brutally into his chest.  
Determined to avenge his fellow Jedi, Mace picked himself off of the floor and charged the Chancellor, slashing furiously with his blade, the Chancellor only just managing to keep him at bay. Their fight took them into the corridor, Windu pursuing Palpatine aggressively. In a heart-stopping moment, Palpatine raised his hand, slamming Mace Windu against the wall; but before he could administer the expected death blow, Mace recovered and dodged, bringing his lightsaber up as the Chancellor’s weapon crashed down towards his neck.  
“You’ll never defeat me,” hissed the Chancellor as their blades locked, each pushing against each other for control, “I have grown powerful under the cover of darkness whilst you and your Order have only sickened and declined.”  
“Our strength comes from the Force,” replied Mace, pushing the Chancellor away with a burst of energy which sent him sprawling onto the floor, “not from the manipulations of weak minds and corruption of what is good! I think you’ll find the Jedi are not quite so sick as you think.”  
“We’ll see about that,” growled Palpatine.

Reaching the Jedi Temple, Anakin found it strangely devoid of Jedi Masters. After thirty minutes of fruitless searching, he finally came across Master Koth leaving one of the meditation chambers.  
“Master Koth,” Anakin called after him, bringing the Jedi Master to a halt. “Can you tell me where Master Windu is?”  
Master Koth looked at Anakin for a moment. Everything he despised about the approach of the Jedi Order to the CLONE wars was personified in the young man stood in front of him. Rather than spend his time doing selfless works or meditating on the power of the Force, Anakin spent his time in worldly occupations, interfering with the Senate, hob-nobbing with politicians and journalists, getting involved with the Executive and, worst of all, participating in murderous campaigns which only brought darkness to the light of the Galaxy. “Master Windu, in his infinite wisdom, has gone to the Chancellor to demand that he restore the constitution of the Republic.”  
“When was this?”  
“About an hour ago.”  
Mentally calculating that he could probably reach the Chancellor’s offices in that time, he thanked Master Koth and was about to leave when Koth grabbed hold of his arm tightly.  
“If the reputation of the Jedi Order suffers in the coming months,” hissed Master Koth to a surprised Anakin, “then it is all your fault. You have infected the Order with darkness; ever since you first came to the Temple it has confused our way and diminished our powers. It is you who have allowed the Sith to grow and gain in power, it is you who have allowed this evil to destroy the Republic.”  
“Master Koth…”  
“I do not want to hear your excuses, Skywalker.” The Jedi Master dropped Anakin’s arm as though it were burning him, “Even now there is only turbulence about you, you suck away the very light from the Force!”  
Too amazed by his words to respond, Anakin could only watch open-mouthed as Master Koth strode away from him. What did he mean, you suck away the very light from the Force? However, there was no time to dwell on his words, he had to get to the Chancellor’s office.

The battle had returned to the Chancellor’s office, neither Mace nor Palpatine managing to gain the upper hand. Forced against the window, Mace swung his lightsaber hard, just missing the Chancellor and smashing into the glass. It shattered into a hundred thousand pieces, falling like rain to the city streets below. The cold night air rushed in, whipping their cloaks and freezing their faces. Clearing his mind of the distraction, Master Windu concentrated all his energy into his strength and cutting down hard managed to dislodge the Chancellor’s lightsaber from his grip. It flew out the window, spiralling down into the darkness.   
Collapsing to his knees, Palpatine looked in terror at the determined Jedi Master, “Will you kill me?”  
“The Council should decide. Until then, you are under arrest, Chancellor Palpatine. Or should I say, Lord Sidious?”  
“It doesn’t matter what you call me,” shouted Palpatine over the tumult, “when you’re dead!” With shocking force, lightening bolts shot out of the old man’s hands directed at the Jedi Master but the Jedi’s perceptions were quick and he raised his lightsaber to block them. As the lightening continued to flow towards him, Mace battled to contain its energy with his weapon; in his efforts to increase the intensity of his power and overcome Mace’s strength a curious change came over the Chancellor. His kindly and benign visage slipped away, his skin buckling and contorting with the pressure, his eyes glowing yellow as his true Sith nature became apparent.   
It was this moment that Anakin came running into the office; seeing the destruction, the three dead Jedi on the ground, he came to a halt just at the top of the stairs. Staring in awe at the Chancellor, who had changed beyond all recognition, the sheer power of his lightening enough to burden the strong Jedi Master who was already oppressed by the onslaught.  
Seeing Anakin, Master Windu yelled at him to stay back, “Anakin, do not come any closer! Palpatine is the Sith Lord we have been looking for!”  
Staring at the electricity emanating from what was once Chancellor Palpatine, Anakin could not help but be amazed. What power is his? He had never seen a Jedi Master use the Force in such a way.  
There are many aspects of Jedi knowledge that we are not allowed to access until we become a Master.  
Sidious also tried to capitalise on Anakin’s appearance; “Anakin, Anakin, help me, the Jedi are taking over!”  
The Jedi are hoping to use the insurrection in the Senate to regain the control they once enjoyed in the early days of the Republic.  
The two warriors battling it out began talking at once, trying to appeal to the young man who stood frozen to the stairs at the office’s entrance.  
“Anakin, you must help me take him to the Temple.”  
“No Anakin, he’s the traitor! All the Jedi are traitors! He means to kill me and dissolve the Senate, please don’t let him!”  
“Nothing you say is true!” Mace did not take his eyes off the cowering Chancellor as he held out against the continual stream of electricity. “You are a Sith, lies and deception alone are your ways. Anakin, we must bring Palpatine to justice before he does more damage to the Republic!”  
“The Jedi’s power is waning,” snarled Sidious, concentrating all his energy on wearing Mace Windu down, “now you have a chance to increase your power and shape the Republic in your image! Anakin, we cannot let them do this!”  
Uncertain which side he should be on, Anakin crept closer to the two titans struggling at the window’s edge. Coming down the stairs, he stumbled upon something; looking down he saw the mangled head of Agen Kolar, his dead eyes staring upwards to the ceiling as a terrible warning.  
Summoning all his strength, Master Windu reflected the energy from the lightening back towards the Sith Lord. With with a croaky gasp, Sidious flung down his hands, his energy spent. “I give up, I’m too weak. I’m dying.”  
“Your plot to gain control of the Republic is over,” continued Mace, his eyes flashing more fiercely as he stared down at the fallen tyrant. “You have lost, Palpatine!”  
“The Senate will never accept the Jedi,” said Sidious weakly, “you will have to take control by force.”  
“He’s right,” called Anakin to the Jedi Master above the moaning of the wind, “the Senate will never support a Jedi takeover.”  
“You see Master Windu, Anakin has a greater understanding of the situation than you ever will.”  
“Anakin, he’s a traitor,” yelled Mace, the lightsaber held above Sidious’ neck, just inches away. “Do you want the Sith to be in control?”  
“Anakin don’t listen to him,” Sidious struggled to speak, his voice little more than a croak above the howling wind, “The Sith do not despise the Republic, we want peace and justice as much as the Jedi.”  
It seems that the Sith and the Jedi are similar in almost every way, including their quest for greater power.  
“Ridiculous,” interjected Mace, shaking his head, “you Sith never cease to amaze me with your lies.”  
Crippled with pain, Sidious was rambling now as he cowered against the window sill, “They will betray you Anakin, as they have betrayed me. The Jedi will not let you develop your power like I can, only I have the power to save the ones you love, only I can show you the true nature of the Force, its light and dark, you are meant to bring balance, let me help you.”  
Anakin could not move. At that moment, he didn’t trust either of them.  
Time was running out. Seeing that Anakin was caught between his loyalty to the Order and the lies that had been fed to him by the Dark Lord, Mace Windu decided to take matters into his own hands. Without Anakin’s help, he did not have the ability to arrest the Sith and escort him to the Temple. That left only one solution; Sidious had to be killed. Although Master Windu knew this was counter-productive in the short-term, the long years of war, the suffering of the Republic and loss of so many comrades had left the Jedi Master embittered and, if he admitted it, keen for revenge. He was no longer prepared to be reasonable. “The Galaxy only grows sickly from your influence,” he raged, towering over the diminishing Chancellor, “I am going to end this once and for all! If the Chosen One will not bring balance to the Force then I will!”  
“Don’t kill me, please!”  
Understanding the changing intent of the Jedi Master, Anakin was goaded into action. “Think about what you are doing, Master! The Senate are in thrall to the Chancellor, we need him to take control.” And I need him to learn more about this power of his.  
“He will only seek to control us,” Mace shouted above the howling wind and Sidious’ crazed rambling, “By keeping him alive we make ourselves vulnerable to his dark powers, we cannot allow him to live!”  
“We can contain him,” pleaded Anakin. I need him to develop my powers, to save the ones I love.  
“Please don’t kill me, I can help you!”  
“I sense your thoughts have long been clouded, young Skywalker, by this dark lord. How can I trust you?”  
“But killing him is not the Jedi way!” His hand on his lightsaber, Anakin ran towards Master Windu. “Master, if we take him together…”  
“No!” Mace blocked him with a sweep of his hand, sending the young man tumbling to the floor. “He has too much blood on his hands!”  
“Please don’t kill me,” moaned Sidious tears streaming down his face, “I only did what was best for the Republic.”  
“You can’t kill him, Master,” insisted Anakin, picking himself up, “he must stand trial so we can find out what influence…”  
“Please don’t kill me, I’ll tell you everything!”  
“It’s pointless, Anakin,” countered the Jedi Master, preparing himself for the inevitable, “He has control of the Senate and the Courts, he is too dangerous to be kept alive.”  
And with that, Mace’s lightsaber sliced down towards the Chancellor’s neck but instead of Sidious’ head falling onto the floor, it was Mace’s hand containing his lightsaber that flew out of the window.  
Too shocked to feel any pain, Master Windu turned to see Anakin, his lightsaber drawn. In another time and place Mace would have marvelled at the whirlwind reactions that had changed the course of the moment so decisively but now he could only stare at the young man in disbelief. “Anakin?”  
“I can’t let you kill him!” shouted Anakin, “we must keep him alive!”  
“For what purpose?” demanded Mace, seeing no rational thought left in the Galaxy which could convince him that Lord Sidious deserved to live.  
Their attention diverted, neither Anakin nor Mace were prepared for the change in Sidious. Springing deftly to his feet, he raised his hands towards Mace Windu, the powerful bolts of lightening streaming out once more from between his fingers and smashing into the body of the Jedi Master. Screaming in agony, Mace tried to block the bolts with his remaining hand but the force of the Sith's energy was too great for him. As Anakin watched in horror, the lightening engulfed his body and he was pushed towards the edge of the broken window until one last effort from Sidious sent him spiralling down to the streets below.  
“See the true power of the Sith, Anakin,” cackled Sidious, lowering his arms and turning his ugly, distorted face to the speechless young man. “Join me or suffer the same fate as your Jedi Masters.”  
Sinking to the floor, Anakin could make no sense of what was happening. All the air seemed to have been sucked out of the room along with his resolve. Struggling to breathe, he felt light-headed as a myriad thoughts crowded in on him; we have the power that you crave, we can help you become the most powerful Jedi in the Galaxy, we can help you to bring balance to the Force… and all the time the sickly yellow eyes were blazing into his, the black pupils sucking him down into the abyss and into it he fell. From somewhere in the distance he could hear Padmé crying, she would not stop, and voices were calling to him, telling him to give in, he could not defeat the Sith but in return for his life they would help him, save him. All light melted away and he felt himself drowning in the darkness, drowning in his own darkness. It engulfed him. And it whispered to him softly, tenderly even, you want power don’t you? You can’t do all this alone. You are lost. Come to us, we are enlightened with great wisdom, we alone can help you, we alone have the answers for which you are seeking.  
“What have I done?” he whispered, realising that the choice he had made only moments before had sealed the fate of the Jedi Order. He was not strong enough to take on Lord Sidious, even Master Windu had not been strong enough. Join me and in time you will learn to have that power too.  
“You are fulfilling your destiny, Anakin,” said Sidious soothingly, coming over to where the young man lay collapsed on the floor. “Become my apprentice, learn the powers which your Jedi Masters have kept from you. It is the only way to develop your strength and bring balance to the Force.” Only I have the power that you crave.  
Slowly, haltingly, Anakin made his choice, the only choice he felt he had apart from joining Master Windu on the cold streets below. “I will do whatever you ask.”  
“Good, good,” smiled Lord Sidious, looking down upon his new servant with almost paternal concern. “With my wisdom and knowledge of the Force I can give you powers beyond anything the Jedi would teach you.”  
“Just help me to save the Republic and the ones I love,” gasped the former Jedi, his mind now gripped by the dark voices in his head, “I need more power, I need the power to stop death.”  
Placing his hand upon the young man’s head as if drawing strength from him, Sidious nodded, “To prevent the inevitability of death is a power which only one has achieved, however if we work together I know we can discover the secret. Now, pledge yourself to me and take your place at my side.”  
Climbing onto his knees, Anakin said in a faltering voice, “I pledge myself to your teachings, and to the ways of the Sith.”  
“Excellent, I feel the strength of the Force flowing through you,” smiled Sidious, stroking Anakin’s fair hair with his grey-skinned fingers. “I can see that you will become a powerful Sith but first you must prove yourself.”  
“What must I do, Master?”  
“Come, sit.” Sidious moved back to his desk, picking up one of the discarded Jedi cloaks and wrapping himself within it to hide his horribly distorted features. “Because I know the Council did not trust you, Anakin, I will ensure that you are not implicated in the Jedi’s plot to take over the Republic. However, when the remaining Jedi Council find out what has happened here, they will seek to remove us, and the Senate, from power. You saw how Master Windu views the Sith, the Jedi will be sure to kill us.”  
“In order to save the Republic, we must subdue the Jedi Order,” said Anakin, wondering if he might somehow exempt Obi-wan from this blanket condemnation. After all, Obi-wan had expressed his own reservations about the plans of Master Windu and the Council.  
“Yes, every single Jedi, including Master Kenobi, are now an enemy of the Republic.” Sidious looked at the young man searchingly, “You understand that, don’t you?”  
Knowing Sidious’s opinions of Obi-wan, Anakin knew it was not the time to defend his Master, “Yes, I understand.”  
“Good. Now, if we are to ensure the future of the Republic we must act quickly. The Jedi are relentless and if we do not move against them first, we will have another war on our hands. To prove your loyalty I want you to go to the Temple and destroy it. Do what must be done, do not hesitate or show mercy. Then we will deal with the rest of the Jedi across the Galaxy.”  
“And this will increase my strength in the Force?”  
“Yes, only when the Jedi are defeated will you have the strength to learn the true arts of the Sith. Now go, and bring peace to the Republic!”

It was not everyday that the corpse of a Jedi Master ended up on the streets of Coruscant. Such an event inevitably attracted attention and it was not long before an interested crowd was gathered around the broken body of Mace Windu. At the same time an urgent newsflash interrupted all channels on the Holonet; it announced to shocked viewers across the Republic news of a plot by the Jedi to take over the Republic, culminating in the attack which had left the Chancellor horribly scarred and weakened. Scenes taken from the security cameras in the Chancellor’s office showed the four members of the Jedi Council threatening the Chancellor with their lightsabers and the Chancellor feebly acceding to their demands before the Republic troops, led by Anakin Skywalker, entered and neutralised the threat. Interviews with the Chancellor’s representative declared the determination of the Senate to bring the Jedi Order to justice; “They are now enemies of the Republic,” he reported, visibly trembling as he spoke to the reporter, “and are considered very dangerous. If you see a Jedi, please do not approach them but report them to the authorities immediately. They have the power to manipulate minds so please do not attempt to speak or reason with them.”


	8. The Sith Ascendent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-wan is warned by Bail Organa and he leaves the Republic ship to find Organa is making plans with Master Yoda, recently come out of retirement. Bail tells Obi-wan that the Jedi have been prevented from taking over in a coup that planned to overthrow the Chancellor and the Senate, something which Obi-wan finds hard to believe. They head back to Coruscant to find out the truth of what is going on.
> 
> But on Coruscant, it is too late for the Jedi Temple. Consumed by bitterness and hate, Anakin leads an army against his former home, destroying it, his former comrades and its archives in an orgy of misplaced destruction. Padme, and Bail Organa, are now enemies of the state, finding themselves in increased danger.

The Dauntless was only a day away from Coruscant and Obi-wan was looking forward to being back on solid ground again. Since he had spoken to the Council and Anakin he had not heard anything from Coruscant and it was beginning to worry him. However, the crew seemed generally unconcerned, reporting that the High Command had issued instructions to all Jedi in the field to return to Coruscant once the CLONE had been defeated in the field.  
With a burst of static, the communicator in his cabin spluttered into life. “General Kenobi, we are receiving a message from Senator Organa. He says it’s urgent.”  
“Put him up.” Obi-wan watched as the unfocused electronic signal formed itself into a flickering shape on the console.  
“Greetings, General Kenobi. Are you on your way back to Coruscant?”  
“I am,” said Obi-wan cheerfully, “we are nearly back in its orbit.”  
“Please trust me Obi-wan when I say it is not in your best interests to return to Coruscant. If you can, leave the Dauntless immediately and rendezvous with my ship. I’ll send you the co-ordinates directly, please do not show this message to anyone.”  
Digesting this information and sensing no dissembling on the part of the Senator, Obi-wan sent the details of his personal comlink to Senator Organa’s location and watched as the hologram disappeared. Immediately, a set of co-ordinates flashed up on his wriststrap. Gathering a few belongings together, including his lightsaber which had been found for him by Commander Uul, Obi-wan took a deep breath and prepared himself for the subterfuge he must use to access his fighter in the ship’s hangars.  
Opening the door to his cabin, he saw that the corridor was empty. Fortunately it was sleeping time for the majority of the crew. He managed to get down to the hangars without meeting anyone except for a young aide who tried to question him about his movements, but fortunately Obi-wan’s mind tricks worked on the young man. However, he knew that leaving the ship would be the main challenge he faced; it was possible to operate the hangar doors using his droid, R4, but it was sure to alert the main control room.  
Climbing up to the cockpit of his fighter, Obi-wan was pleased to see that the technicians had been lazy and left the droid ensconced in its container behind the cockpit. “Hello R4,” he said in response to the droid’s friendly greeting, “I’m hoping you can get me out of here with a minimum of fuss.”  
The droid bleeped a reply along the lines of ‘certainly Master Kenobi’ and started to prepare the ship for take off. Strapping himself in, Obi-wan flickered his eyes across the console in front of him, “R4, can you take off without having to alert the main control room? I would rather they didn’t know about my little trip.”  
The droid bleeped positively and initiated the code sequences that would allow the ship to leave the hangar. As Obi-wan watched, a smaller portal in the huge doors towards the end of the hangar started to open. “Good job, R4! Right, lets get going.”  
It was only a matter of moments before the ship started to taxi away from its resting place on the hangar and towards the opening gateway; fortunately Obi-wan had been the only pilot to use a lone fighter and he did not have to steer his way through the other ships. In a minute he was out of the ship and surrounded by the endless reaches of space; already the hangar doors were closing.  
Sighing with relief, Obi-wan entered the co-ordinates given to him by Senator Organa into the navicomp, “Here we go, R4.”  
And the ship streaked away from the Dauntless.

His co-ordinates took him to Bail Organa’s personal corvette class cruiser, the Tantive IV. After docking in the hangar, Obi-wan was met by Bail Organa and to his surprise, Jedi Master Yoda.  
“Master Kenobi. Good to see you it is,” said the diminutive Jedi.  
“Likewise,” replied Obi-wan, greatly puzzled by what was happening. It must have taken an event of great significance to force the Jedi Master out of his retirement. It had been many years since he had last seen the venerable Jedi Master and he seemed to be even older and more frail than Obi-wan remembered.  
“That face you make,” said Yoda with a smile, “something the matter is there, Obi-wan?”  
“Of course not, Master Yoda, only it is a surprise to see you here. What brings you out from retirement?”  
“You better come and sit down,” said Senator Organa ominously, “there is a lot to tell you.”   
Sitting down in the more comfortable surroundings of the ship’s spacious living area, supplied with food and drink, Senator Organa told Obi-wan everything he knew about the events on Coruscant. Working late in his Senate offices, he had seen with his own eyes the death of Master Windu and his fall from the Chancellor’s offices. He had seen the newsflash which had declared that the Jedi Order had been exposed in a plot to take over the Republic and were now being hunted as its enemies. “The Senate has demanded that the threat from the Jedi must be subdued, the last I heard was that a force was being sent to the Jedi Temple to arrest the Council.”  
Obi-wan was speechless for a moment, wondering what could have led to such terrible events. “Are there many Jedi left on Coruscant?”  
“I am ashamed to say that I do not know, Master Kenobi,” said Bail apologetically, “I tried to contact the Temple but their communications have been routed through the Chancellor’s office. Something very terrible has happened. I left Coruscant, hoping to intercept as many Jedi as I could but the only signal I picked up was from Master Yoda, and yourself of course.”  
“A great disturbance in the Force have I felt,” said Yoda by way of explanation for his coming out of retirement, “a shift in the balance of light and dark. In ascendance I fear the darkness is.”  
“What about Anakin?” asked Obi-wan, remembering his conversation with his friend. “He was returning to Coruscant a day before me, have you seen him?” He noticed that Yoda’s ears pricked up as soon as he said the young Jedi’s name.  
“I have not heard from him personally, Master Obi-wan,” replied Bail, “but I have no good news to report. According to the news reported last night, Anakin saved Chancellor Palpatine from the Jedi plot to kill him.”  
There was a silence. The implication was that Anakin had killed Master Windu to save the Chancellor. “I cannot believe it,” said Obi-wan, shaking his head.  
“Received a coded message, we have, from the High Command,” said Yoda, skirting over the issue of Anakin Skywalker for the time being. “Requests all Jedi to return to Coruscant once their missions are over.”   
“Yes, we received the same message on the Dauntless,” replied Obi-wan thoughtfully, “from what you say it sounds like a trap. I think we should return to Coruscant, if there are any Jedi left in the Temple then we need to warn them and remove them to safety.”  
“A noble idea Obi-wan but I think it will be too dangerous,” cautioned Bail, “We managed to leave without any trouble but once the Chancellor and the Senate realise that you are back on Coruscant they will arrest you. All Jedi, except Anakin Skywalker, have been declared enemies of the Republic.”  
Obi-wan looked alarmed. “Then Anakin truly is in the Chancellor’s sway, I hope he has not, like him, fallen prey to the Sith Lord.” He turned to Master Yoda, “I know it will be dangerous, Master, but shall we not return to the Temple? At the very least we should change the coded signal to prevent more Jedi from returning and falling into the trap laid by the Senate.”  
Yoda was looking at Obi-wan thoughtfully. “Much sense in that course of action. Risky it will be, but we must try to save as many Jedi as we can.”   
“Yes, Master. We also need a clearer picture of what has happened.” He was thinking chiefly of Anakin.  
“Then I will ask my pilot to set an immediate course for Coruscant,” said Bail Organa, marvelling at the stalwart nature of the two Jedi, “we should be there by 1400 hours.”  
“In a dark place we find ourselves,” said Yoda, looking sombrely at the Senator and Obi-wan, “a little more knowledge might light our way.”

At the same time as Obi-wan Kenobi was escaping the Dauntless, a battalion of Republic troops was heading towards the Jedi Temple. At its head was a tall, cloaked figure dressed only in black, marching purposefully towards the only home he had known since he had arrived on Coruscant all those years ago. If there was any conflict in the former Jedi’s mind then he kept it hidden behind a grim determination. All those years he had spent here, learning about Jedi lore, training his mind and being to be receptive to the power and strength that lay in the Force, times of companionship with Obi-wan and his more recent disappointment at the lack of trust demonstrated towards him by the Council. He was the Chosen One and they had never shown him the respect that he felt should have been his; they had kept knowledge from him, denied him the rank of Master, ignored the sacrifices he had made for the Republic. It had taken the Chancellor to show him the reality of indoctrination by the Jedi Order; now he could only view his earlier self through the oppressive tactics used by the Jedi to keep him under their control. Allowing his rage and bitterness to swell through him, Anakin was well on his way down the dark path which had begun with his fateful attack on Master Windu.  
Lit only by the moonlight, the Temple slumbered, its windows dark. Reaching the steps that led to the entrance, Anakin paused to issue orders to the troops. In a moment they were swarming around the building, surrounding it. Alone, he climbed the steps that led to the entrance, the columns that had supported the hopes of the Jedi for centuries. Pausing beneath the grandiose façade, Anakin Skywalker looked up at the faces carved into the doorway, their eyes staring blankly at him. For a moment he stood, his heart beating ferociously in his chest. Then he motioned for the leader of the troops to join him.  
“Yes, sir.”  
“Hold some of the troops here. The rest are to encircle the Temple. None of the Jedi are to escape.”  
“As you wish, General Skywalker.”  
As he crossed the threshold and into the entrance of the Temple, Anakin drew his lightsaber, disregarding the remaining feelings of revulsion he felt at what he was about to do. He had to be as deadly and quick as lightening. He focused on the pain and rage of how they had enslaved him, how they had prevented him from reaching his full potential. For once his anger would be a help to him, not something that had to be suppressed and hidden. Taking a deep breath he plunged deeper into the darkness of the Temple.

Unable to sleep, Padmé tossed and turned, trying to make herself comfortable. However, it proved useless and, opening her eyes, she sat up in bed, intent on finding something to read to hurry slumber to her. However, just as she was about to turn on the light she noticed an unusually bright light, strong enough to be seen through the shades on the window. Wondering what could cause such an unusual illumination, she went over to the window and pushed the controls which opened the shades. As her eyes adjusted from the gloom, she saw the Jedi Temple in the distance was burning; smoke billowed from the roof and the bright flashes of the flames lit up the horizon in ghastly detail. So it was true, she thought, grabbing her robe and hurrying out of the bedroom, the Senate has sanctioned the attack on the Jedi Temple.

Surveying the destruction to the Temple, Anakin watched passively as another pile of documents was thrown onto a nearby fire, burning hundreds of years of Jedi lore into tiny fragments. He had finished what he had come to do; inside, the bodies of his former comrades lay crumpled on the floor, their robes burnt with laser and faces twisted into agony. In particular he thought about the remains of Master Koth, the one Jedi Master that he had found some pleasure in killing. However, now that the rush of anger and adrenalin had begun to fade, as it always did, Anakin felt nothing. There was no feeling of triumph, no rush of excitement or power; only a sickening sense that he had changed in some terrible way.  
“We have finished our search of the Temple, General Skywalker.”  
“And?”  
“There are no survivors. We found evidence that several ships left the Temple’s landing platform just before we arrived; some Jedi may have escaped.”  
“Not to worry,” said Anakin coldly, “we will find them.” He willed his heart to turn to stone, willed his mind to focus on the ultimate goal. Only from the Jedi’s death could he save the Republic and attain the power that was rightfully his. “Leave a squadron of troops to guard the Temple once you have finished here. I have other matters to attend to.”  
“Yes, General.”

One of those matters was to pay a visit to Padmé. Since he had returned to Coruscant, events had happened so fast that he had not been able to find the time to ensure that she was safe. Significantly, he had managed to extract a promise from Sidious that Padmé would not be declared an enemy of the Republic as would the other Senators involved with the Jedi’s insurrection. The need to subdue the Jedi took precedence however and, after communicating with Sidious before he left the Temple, Anakin was given leave to visit the Senator before he left Coruscant for the second part of his mission.  
Waiting in her sitting room, many thoughts coursed through his mind as he watched her come to meet him, mixed up with the many influences that strove within him for dominance. One moment he wanted to take her in his arms and tell her of his dreams of power, or confess to her everything hoping she would be able to forgive him; the next he wanted to run away and leave her, not drag her into the sordid place he found himself. But as he drew close to her, for a moment all such thoughts left his mind and soon they were embracing, clinging to each other tightly.  
“Oh Anakin!” Immediately, she saw how unsettled he looked, the strain upon his brow magnified a thousandfold in his haunted eyes. He was sweating profusely, his unkempt hair curling damply about his face. “When I saw what happened to the Temple, I feared the worst!”  
“It’s alright, my love, the threat has been subdued.”  
“You’re hurt!” She saw the cuts on his face.  
“They are nothing,” he said softly, stroking her hair. “Come, let us sit down for a moment.”  
“Is it true,” she asked, once they were both seated on the couch, “were the Jedi really plotting to bring down the Republic?” It seemed only recently that she had attended a meeting with Masters Windu and Ki ali Mundi from the Council; to her, their proposals for restoring the Republic to its former constitution, and taking limited control if the Senate refused to endorse it, had seemed perfectly reasonable.  
“I am afraid so, we have found evidence that they were plotting to remove the Chancellor and dissolve the Senate, creating a government to rule in their own interests.”  
“I cannot believe it,” she said, aghast. “It goes against everything the Jedi stand for! Are you sure the evidence against them has not been fabricated?”  
“I wish it were so,” said Anakin quietly, “but I saw Master Windu about to murder the Chancellor with my own eyes. Look Padmé, this long war has changed the nature of the Jedi Order. They have lost much of their power and want to regain it in any way they can. If only you had seen the aggression of Master Windu. The Jedi Council were willing to betray the Republic and destroy everything we believe in. But as you know my loyalties lie with the Chancellor and the Senate, and with you.”  
“I cannot believe it has come to this,” sighed Padmé. There was still the matter of how Master Windu had died and she was too afraid to ask him if he had been responsible.  
“I did not kill him, if that’s what you think,” murmured Anakin, knowing that he should not read her mind but unable to stand the feelings of revulsion he felt within her. “I tried to make him see sense but all he wanted was revenge.”  
Concerned that her thoughts were so open to his perception, Padmé turned to more neutral ground. “Now that the Temple is destroyed, what will you do?”  
“The Chancellor has given me a very important mission,” he said, “to seek out the remaining Jedi in the Galaxy and bring them to justice.”  
“Are your orders to kill them?”  
“If they refuse to surrender, yes.” There was no point in lying to her.  
His words swam around her head, the nausea rising in her throat. “What about your friends, what about Obi-wan?”  
“Obi-wan?” Anakin looked distant, “I know he was not part of the rebellion, he told me that he disagreed with the Council’s strategy. If he stays loyal to the Republic then he may live.”  
The coldness in his voice chilled her heart and she wondered what sacrifices he was having to make in his character to accomplish his terrible mission. “This isn’t like you, Anakin,” she said eventually, “you are not a murderer.”  
The simplicity of her words shamed him but he knew that there was no going back now. “Do not worry about me, my love, I know what I am doing…”  
“Do you, Anakin, really?” Impassioned by his seeming resignation to events, Padmé stood up in agitation, “The Chancellor is manipulating you, don’t you see? He is making you destroy the very Order that has made you, Anakin, because he wants the Jedi’s power for himself!”  
“Padmé, it’s not like that…” If only she knew how close to the truth she was thought the small part of Anakin Skywalker which was not tainted by the dark side.  
“Come away with me, Anakin,” she persisted, throwing herself back down on the couch beside him and taking his hands, “we can go into hiding, far away from Coruscant, until everything has died down. I don’t like what is happening to you!”  
“I can’t run away, Padmé,” he said gently, squeezing her hands, “There is too much at stake. If we leave the Republic open to its enemies then we will have nothing to come back to. You must understand that.”  
It was then that Padmé knew there was no point in reasoning with Anakin; although she was convinced she could still see some traces of the man she knew, it was subsumed under this new Anakin, who was cold, determined, ruthless. Admittedly these were traits which had always been in his character but now they had come to the fore and were changing him utterly. “It’s too late, the Republic’s enemies are already inside it,” she said defeatedly.  
“That’s not true, Padmé,” insisted Anakin, “the Chancellor and the Senate want what is best for the Republic. The Chancellor has told me himself that he will strive to convince the Senate that the rescinding of emergency powers, a return to the constitution and the appointment of a new Chancellor is possible now that the war is over. He has told me of his intention to retire to Naboo, to his family estates.”  
“When did he tell you this?”  
“He has always made it clear to me that it would be his intention.”  
This was news to Padmé but she refused to believe it until it was actual policy, agreed in the Senate. “Then it is worth me remaining here?”  
“Yes, if you want to see the Republic restored you will need to vote in the Senate. Don’t worry about your connections with the insurgents, the Chancellor has promised me that no harm will come to you.”  
“What do you mean?” she demanded, “the Senate has already ordered our arrest once, it can hardly do it again unless it means to charge us.”  
“Evidence has been found that the group of senators known as the Loyalists were involved in the Jedi plot,” explained Anakin softly. “I know you were involved too, Padmé,” he said quickly, seeing she was about to interject, “as does the Chancellor. But I made him promise that you will not be implicated in their schemes, on the condition that you do not try to contact any of them.”  
So the Chancellor knew about their meetings! It was terrible that her position now rested on her connection to Anakin, a position that the independent Senator found untenable. “So all I am allowed to do is sit here and wait for you to come back?”  
He heard the irritation in her voice but ignored it, “Yes, I promise to return to you as soon as I can. But be careful, the Jedi will come looking for me. Do not tell them anything.”  
Fear and misery were clouding Padmé’s thoughts. “What will happen to us?” she whispered.  
“Have faith, my love,” he spoke softly, hoping to allay her fears, “everything will soon be set right. The Republic will be returned to its former glory and we shall have peace across the Galaxy.” He couldn't resist kissing her, she looked so beautiful in the soft glow of the lamps; dark eyes glistening in the shadows of her lashes. “Wait for me.”  
“I promise.” Shivering, she watched as he left the room, feeling a terrible sense of foreboding.  
As Anakin came to the door he turned to see her for one more time. She looked so small and alone sat on the couch; her face was pale and so overcome with despair that he almost wanted to agree to her plan, to run away and be together away from all the chaos he had unleashed. But at the back of his mind he knew that she was still hiding things from him and he could not trust her. Dampening down his feelings, he opened the door and disappeared into the corridor.

Despite his long experience of the charged atmosphere of the Republic capital, Bail Organa was feeling anxious as the Tantive IV approached the upper atmosphere of Coruscant. He was concerned for the two Jedi behind him as well as for the fate of the Republic now that there was only a ruthless Chancellor and a corrupted Senate to support it.  
“Have you heard anything from Senator Amidala?” asked Obi-wan, wondering about the fate of the young woman. If anyone was going to lead him to the whereabouts of Anakin Skywalker, it would be Padmé.  
“No, although I know she remains on Coruscant,” replied Bail, turning in his chair. “As soon as we are landed, I will try and contact her.”  
“I hope she is alright.”  
“She is in great danger,” commented Bail, “particularly as she is a member of the group that formed to resolve the problem presented by the Chancellor’s seizure of power. If the Jedi have been declared enemies of the Republic, then I fear these senators will be implicated next.”  
“But senators like Padmé Amidala have shown nothing but dedication to the Republic!” Obi-wan could not believe it.  
“I know,” Bail Organa sighed deeply, “but dedication can conflict with the desires of those who wield the power.”  
“Strong Senator Amidala is,” added Yoda, remembering fondly the young lady who had so impressed him with her courage and fortitude, “trust that she will survive these trials, we must.”  
“I still think we should try and see her if we can,” mused Obi-wan, who had an ulterior motive after all.  
“Coruscant is in range, Senator Organa,” said the pilot over the comlink. “We are receiving a message from the Chancellor’s office, shall I patch it through to you?”  
“Yes, send it through,” said Bail, “but shield the transmitter.”   
“Yes, sir.”  
Mas Amadda appeared as a small hologram before the two Jedi and the Senator; “Senator of the Republic,” he said smoothly, “the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic requests your presence at a special session of Congress to be held this afternoon at 1500 hours. Please be prompt.”  
The obviously pre-recorded message ended. “Good to attend this session it will be,” said Yoda.  
“Could it be a trap?” asked Bail, musing over the significance of the message.  
“No, I don't think so,” said Obi-wan, “the Chancellor will not be able to control the thousands of star systems without keeping the Senate intact. I don’t think he can afford yet to dissolve the Senate, there would be a riot.”  
“Then I will attend as it will be in all our interests to find out what the Chancellor intends for the Republic now that the war is over. I might also be able to get in contact with Senator Amidala.”  
“If a special session of Congress there is, possible it may be to reach the Temple,” said Yoda, leaning heavily on his cane as the three of them exited the seating area on their arrival on Coruscant.  
“I can take you to the Temple,” said Bail, grabbing his weapon for comfort’s sake, “but first we will have to negotiate security.” He looked at the two Jedi in their distinctive cloaks. “Maybe if you borrow some of my staff’s robes…?” Although he had to admit there was little they could find to fit Yoda.  
“It won’t be necessary,” said Obi-wan. “Leave it to us.”  
“Very well,” shrugged Bail, wondering what they had in mind.  
They left the ship and walked towards the security guard waiting at the entrance to the docking bay. The two Jedi followed behind Bail, waiting patiently as the guard, a relatively young man, examined the Senator’s security passes.  
“These are fine.” Then he noticed the two Jedi behind him. “I’m afraid Sir those two Jedi are going to have to come with me. Orders of the Senate, Sir, all Jedi to be arrested on sight.”  
Only his superiors would be pleased with such a conscientious guard. “Oh, I was not aware.” Bail glanced with concern to Obi-wan.  
Moving his hand surreptitiously Obi-wan suggested that, “Maybe it’s for the best we remain in the custody of the Senator.”  
“Maybe it’s for the best they remain in your custody, Senator Organa,” said the guard amiably.  
“We can proceed to the Senate,” the hand moved again, only slightly.  
“You can proceed to the Senate,” said the guard, happily moving aside to allow them to pass.  
As they entered the city proper, Bail expressed his admiration to Obi-wan. “I was er wondering if a mere human could learn such a trick? It would be very useful you see.”  
“I am sure it would,” said Obi-wan from the depths of his hood, “but sadly Senator it is an ability only available after long and painful hours of training.”  
“A good thing that is,” said Yoda, mischievously, “much confusion otherwise there would be.”

Bail’s speeder swooped low amongst the buildings, heading for the shattered Jedi Temple. The attack had devastated the columns that had stood for centuries, mauled the grandiose building so that it stood blackened and forlorn, shrouded in the dirty haze. Inside the speeder, Obi-wan could barely look as they approached, he had spent almost all his life inside its hallowed walls, now to see it damaged by such a brutal attack brought un-Jedi feelings to the fore.  
Yoda looked at him sharply, “Take care of your feelings you must, Obi-wan.”  
They landed close to the east side of the Temple, hidden from view by the ruins of earlier desecrations. Clumps of broken masonry lay everywhere, burnt and scarred by the smoke of raging fires.  
“Well here you are,” said Bail, torn between his admiration for the determination of the Jedi and his belief in their insanity. “I will be waiting for your call.”  
“Thank you for your help, Senator Organa,” said Obi-wan, shaking his hand.  
“May the Force be with you,” nodded Bail, leaving them to their desperate mission.  
“Only bad things I sense,” said Yoda quietly as they watched the speeder roar off into the distance. The bleakness in his mind was increasing in intensity. “Quickly and quietly we must proceed.”  
Sheltering behind one of the last remaining pillars, Obi-wan surveyed the situation. “These are the only guards, Master.” Around the Temple the Force seemed dull and flat, no longer did it resonate with light. “Outside the Temple at least.”  
“Careful we must be,” cautioned Yoda, his tiny face screwed in pain as whispers of agony came to him through the Force, “not to attract more.”  
The attack was over in seconds; a dozen troops were no match for two Jedi Masters with the benefit of surprise. It demonstrated the arrogance of whoever initiated the destruction since they obviously believed that there would be no Jedi left to stage a counter-attack. But on reflection Obi-wan unhappily conceded that that supposition was probably correct.  
Leaving the litter of armour and body parts behind them, Obi-wan and Yoda hurried into the smoking, near-derelict remains of their physical and spiritual home. It was immediately apparent that something was terribly wrong. The fear and stench of death was palpable in what had once been a place of peace and tranquility.  
“Master, I can’t do this!” Obi-wan pressed the corner of his cloak to his mouth; he thought he might retch.  
“Proceed we must.” Seemingly undaunted, Yoda led the way inside.  
As their eyes grew used to the darkness inside the Temple, they began to realise the damage that had been wrecked. Once-radiant windows now littered the floors, shattered into fragments. Columns toppled over drunkenly against the once magnificent carvings, the statues honouring great Jedi of the past were burnt and scarred by fire and blaster. The tattered remains of precious books and sacred holocrons lay damaged beyond repair, strewn across the halls now empty of the Jedi who had walked in the hallowed footsteps of their Masters. Everywhere was chaos, the hopes of the Order lost; over a thousand years of Jedi lore, culture and heritage destroyed in one terrible night.  
Then they saw the huddle of bodies on the floor, the first of many. Rushing from the eerily silent hallways into desecrated rooms, from barren corridors through to emptily echoing chambers, Obi-wan and Yoda quickly learned the appalling truth. The Jedi that had remained in the Temple were now lifeless, stinking corpses, their staring eyes registering the horrors that they must have witnessed. After a while, it became too much. In the Council Chamber, Obi-wan found a group of padawans huddled behind the chairs, obviously seeking shelter. Their faces were contorted into terrible agony, their bloodied robes evidence of the ferocity of the attack that killed them.  
“How could this be? How could the army do this to children?”  
“Not army,” said Yoda, wearily, indicating the marks on the bodies, “not by blasters are these Jedi killed.”  
“By lightsaber?” Obi-wan struggled to believe the evidence. “But who? Who could have done this?”

Bail hurried into the Senate, his mind so occupied that he barely remembered to show his security pass to the guards. Inside, the long hallway was crowded with senators hoping to find out about the future of the Republic and he despaired of ever finding Senator Amidala amongst so many. Then he saw her, accompanied by two handmaidens, dressed in an unusually ornate costume of heavy, dark velvet, her hair braided around her face and decorated with sparkling gems. However, underneath her elaborate costume she looked pale and tired, the dark shadows only just hidden beneath her make-up.  
“Senator Amidala.” He hurried after her as she entered the Senate chamber.  
Turning abruptly, Padmé looked startled. “Senator Organa! I thought you had left Coruscant?”  
“I had, but I came back. May I join you?”  
“Of course,” heading over to the pod reserved for Naboo, Padmé took a seat and waited until the Senator had taken a seat next to her. “We should be safe to talk, I have disabled all the communication devices. So, what brings you back to Coruscant?”  
“I am here with Masters Yoda and Kenobi,” whispered Bail, “we are hoping to find out the cause of recent events.”  
Shocked, Padmé looked at him, “They have come back here despite the danger?”  
“Yes, there is much they need to know.” He regarded her with concern, “Are you safe, my lady?”  
“There is no need to worry about me.”  
He was about to ask her discreetly about Anakin when an ominous hush descended upon the assembled representatives. The Supreme Chancellor and his entourage had entered, a sombre Palpatine, cloaked and hooded, leaning heavily on his cane. Slowly, he took his place in the central pod, flanked by Mas Amadda, Sly Moore and two red-clad Republican guards.  
“Well,” whispered Padmé, as everyone waited with baited breath for his special pronouncement to begin, “now we discover if the Chancellor will be true to his word and return to us our Republic.”

“Look Master Yoda, several ships managed to leave last night.”  
In the depths of the Temple security chambers, which had escaped most of the damage meted out to the rest of the building, Obi-wan had finally finished reconfiguring the homing message. It had necessitated changing the tiny circuits one by one, a laborious task but one he felt was absolutely crucial to deciding the fate of any remaining Jedi. He was finding it hard to manage his feelings but concentrating on the task in hand had helped to focus his energies. Now he was showing an exhausted Yoda, stood at a nearby console, the evidence that at least some of the Jedi might have escaped the purge.  
“Perhaps find them we can.” Yet Yoda’s expression betrayed that he had little hope. His ears drooping, the exhausted Jedi Master turned his attention back to the live broadcast of the proceedings in the Senate, projected onto screens the Jedi had previously used for surveillance.  
“What do you think will happen to the Republic?” asked Obi-wan, leaning against the console and wiping his hand across his damp brow.  
Yoda shook his head. “The end, I fear it will be. Only impenetrable darkness surrounds the Chancellor now, keeping hold of power his priority will be.”  
A chill ran through Obi-wan’s heart. “At least we know we are not alone,” he muttered. “And it will take the troops a while to work out how to re-configure the code.” Seeing the dark-clad Chancellor gesticulating to the Senate he commented, “The Chancellor does not look very well.”  
“No, not Chancellor,” said Yoda grimly. “Lord Sidious, our new Emperor he is.”

“It pains me to say this but there is only one way in which we can bring peace and order to the Galaxy,” explained the Chancellor, to rapt attention from the great mass of senators. “As you may have learned, we uncovered a plot, a plot to destroy the Republic. And who were the perpetrators? The very Order that we believed would protect us. The Jedi!” He sounded incredulous, as though he still couldn’t quite believe it himself. “Our very foundation, the foundation of the Republic which we have all served with our utmost devotion and fervour has been rotting from within.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “And when I found out about this Jedi plot, it was almost too late. You see before you a broken man, a man gravely wounded in the act of protecting the Republic. It was only from the actions of another brave man who remains as devoted to the survival of the Republic as I am that I am able to be with you here, at this moment.”  
As murmurs of sympathy and disgust at the terrible actions of the Jedi built around the room, Padmé felt her heart constrict. It was exactly as Anakin had told her. Practised politician as she was she kept her composure, clasping her hands rigidly in her lap to prevent them shaking. Only her eyes betrayed her confusion.  
Palpatine’s voice began to rise again, more fervently and more loudly. “In these dangerous times, when the Republic will face more and more danger and our enemies will be building against us, the solution I propose will be no ordinary solution. But remember, my friends, that we are not facing ordinary times and we are not dealing with ordinary enemies. The Jedi are able to use the Force to bend the will and manipulate the minds of anyone they choose, they have unlimited powers and for years they have been plotting to bring down the Republic and rule the Galaxy for themselves. Would you want to be ruled by those able to wield such enormous powers? If you are reasonable, and I expect that you all are, then we cannot allow this to happen. We cannot allow ourselves to be ruled by an Order which shuts itself away and does not deign to interact with anybody but themselves. We cannot allow ourselves to be ruled by dangerous wizards who wield a power they will not share or help us to understand. We need strong, stable leadership that will take us into the next thousand years of peace and prosperity!”  
Clapping filled the auditorium and Padmé chewed her nail nervously, reverting to an old habit that she thought she had got rid of years ago. What was Palpatine up to? She could not reconcile the divisive politician in front of her now with the kindly, receptive and quietly assertive man she had known. Like Anakin, it seemed his whole manner had altered, preaching deceit and poison into the ears of vulnerable senators, tired of the war and the machinations of politics.  
“And now to my proposal. It pains me to have to do this but we have tried to defend the Republic and time has shown us that it is too weak to defend anymore. We are in no more need of the Jedi, their treachery has been uncovered and steps are being taken to deal with the menace they represent. Count Dooku as you know was a Jedi, although he left the Order he continued to have many sympathisers.” He looked about the Senate triumphantly, “And the creation of the Grand Republic Army itself was kept hidden from the Senate by the Jedi Order for over ten years. Yes, I have since learnt that it was a Jedi, Master Syfo-Dyas, who ordered the creation of the army years before we even considered – reluctantly it must be said - its proposal. This army was to be used against us but our fortunate discovery of its existence ensured that this particular plot was thwarted. Evidence that we have in our possession has led me to believe that the Separatist movement was a plot devised by the Jedi to create a diversion whilst they overcame the Senate and the Executive. Their perfidy is boundless!” The Chancellor looked triumphantly around the chamber. “We have discovered the Jedi plot; we have taken steps to reduce their power on Coruscant. We have an army to protect us. But some of the Jedi are still roaming the Galaxy; they will be in communication with the powers against us. So, to protect us from the danger that they represent, it is my proposal to create a Galactic Empire. It has been suggested by many amongst you that I continue as your leader. Believe me, I have considered this honour you confer upon me carefully. I am much weakened but I am prepared to do what is in your interests. I continue to have the devotion and interests of the many star systems in this room at heart and I promise you my friends that I have thought long and hard about this. It is the only solution.”  
A barrage of claps and cheers echoed around the chamber as one by one, the senators got to their feet and applauded the motion, sufficiently convinced by the former Chancellor’s words that a (seemingly) benevolent dictatorship, underneath a man who had courageously and selflessly lead them to war and steered them through the dark times of the Clone Wars, was a suitable replacement for a thousand-year old Republic which had collapsed in less than twenty years.  
Two senators amongst the minority who did not see this as a reasonable solution sat completely dumbfounded, unable to comprehend quite how this was acceptable.  
“How could this happen?” Bail looked around him, amazed that so many senators seemed to have lost their wits in the turmoil.  
“So this is how our liberty dies, to thunderous applause,” said Padmé flatly, realising the situation was more hopeless than she had ever dreamed. Her beloved Republic, for which she had served faithfully, for which she had almost died, was gone and most of the Senate seemed perfectly happy about it. “They are happy to accept tyranny because they fear the Jedi?”  
“It must be more than that,” muttered Bail, starting to get up, “We can’t just sit here, we cannot let this happen…”  
Touching his arm, Padmé shook her head, “No, not now!” She could see all the guards. They were at the new Emperor’s mercy. “We cannot hope to win.”  
Realising the futility of his actions, Bail looked at her hopelessly, but he remained seated.  
“There will be a time,” she said, but her eyes were full of despair.

“Lord Sidious?” Eyes riveted to events in the Senate, Obi-wan couldn’t believe his eyes, wondering if it was all a marvellously screwed up dream he was having. “I knew we should never have trusted him. He has twisted their minds well.” He paced about, impatient. “Master Yoda, surely we must do something!”  
“Only two of us there is,” pointed out Yoda, looking sadly at the screen relaying its message of hopelessness, “little we can hope to achieve.”  
“But others will die! We don’t even know how many Jedi are left! And what about Anakin?” mused Obi-wan, more to himself as thoughts churned over in his mind. “Maybe the security tape will have some clue?”  
“Nothing will that achieve,” began Yoda but Obi-wan had already gone over to the console, punching in the series of codes to begin the playback.  
“There has to be something here,” said Obi-wan, committed to his course of action.  
“Only sadness will that bring,” warned Yoda, sensing that Obi-wan was dangerously close to letting his emotions consume him. “Mind your feelings you must.”  
“There’s Master Windu leaving the Temple,” said Obi-wan stubbornly, spinning through a few reels. Much of the tape was corrupted but he could still make out the details. “And who is that leaving in such a hurry?” He slowed it down again. “It’s Anakin.” He spun the tape on a few more reels, flicking through the screens until he came across something that filled him with horror.  
It was Anakin entering the Temple, behind him a regiment of Republic troops. So nauseated by the revelations of the tape as they unfolded, Obi-wan fell away from the console, retching copiously but unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of the young Jedi - his friend and brother, the young man he had trained, had shared so much, had loved - hacking and slashing away at the Jedi with his lightsaber, killing them in cold blood. They trusted him and he had cut them down, showing no mercy.  
“There has to be some mistake?” Obi-wan felt angry tears sting his eyes, the first he had felt since Qui-Gon had died. “There must be a mistake!”  
Impassive, Yoda watched as the tears rolled down Obi-wan’s cheeks. “No mistake, Anakin Skywalker that is. Corrupted by the dark side, he has become.”  
“But why…?” Obi-wan stopped, unable to comprehend the terrible events being revealed to him. Then there was a break in the tape’s transmission. Obi-wan was about to turn it off when a figure that was recognisable as Anakin appeared so he left it playing. Moments later another figure came into frame, a stooped, cloaked figure, supported by a cane. Anakin dropped to his knees in front of this figure in supplication.  
Obi-wan turned even paler. “What is this?”  
“You have done well,” said the tape, the two dark figures softly illuminated in miniature. “Do you feel your powers growing?”  
“Yes, Master.”  
“Turned to the dark side has young Skywalker,” said Yoda quietly, as though he had known it all along, “serves the Sith Lord he does.”  
“Then go forth, and bring peace to the Republic.”  
“No,” Obi-wan’s voice was barely a whisper, but grew as the full consideration for what had transpired began to hit him. After all, hadn’t the information given to them by Bail Organa suggest that Anakin Skywalker had saved the Chancellor at the expense of the Jedi Order. “No, it’s not true! How could he? How could he do this?” He punched the monitor in frustration.  
“Obi-wan, be mindful of your feelings,” said Yoda, coming forward and turning off the security tape with his claw. In the background resonated the voice of the new Emperor, proclaiming his vision for a safe and peaceful Galaxy. “Gone Anakin Skywalker is. Forget your feelings for him, you must. Find him you must. Destroy him, you must.”  
Obi-wan looked at him as if he were mad. “Master Yoda, there is no honour in this mission you give me. I cannot kill him, he is like my brother.”  
Yoda shook his head. “Heed you nothing that Qui-Gon taught you? That I have taught you?” He poked the Jedi viciously with his stick, “Fought together you have, trained him you have. You alone can defeat him.”  
Obi-wan put his head into his hands. “I cannot do it!”  
“A Jedi no longer is he,” said Yoda grimly, “the ways of the Sith are now his.”  
“But he is so strong in the Force, I cannot possibly…”   
“Yes, yes, strength he has, but also great weakness. Judging by what we see,” said Yoda, growing more concerned considering Obi-wan’s emotional response. “A surprise to you this is?”  
Obi-wan nodded, hands pressed against his eyes. “I cannot believe it.”  
“Believe you must, if to defeat him you are.”  
“Master Yoda,” said Obi-wan, preparing himself mentally for the terrible task ahead, “is there anyone in the history of the Jedi who has turned their back on the dark side once they have submitted to it?”   
“Legends there are, yes,” replied Yoda sombrely, “but too late for Anakin, I fear it is.”  
“But if the Sith Lord has lied to him, he may be acting under false delusions,” said the younger Jedi in revelation, still not ready to give up on Anakin. “There might still be some good left in him.”  
“The dark side clouds everything, always clouded Anakin Skywalker it has,” sighed Yoda heavily, not wishing to give him false hope. “Alone you must find him, and find him you must. His fate, decide it you will.”  
“But where can I find him?” grumbled Obi-wan, “these are only images, he could be anywhere by now.”  
“Use your feelings,” said Yoda simply. He put his hand on Obi-wan’s shoulder, knowing the Force would guide his troubled companion. “If you listen, help you to find him they will.”

“It is not safe to remain here,” said Bail gently to Senator Amidala as they reached her apartment. Fearing for her safety, he had insisted on escorting her back to home in case the Emperor decided to renew his attacks against those who had sought to restrict his powers. They had talked about the possibility of reversing the course of events; of finding Master Yoda and Kenobi and devising some way of defeating the Emperor before his changes took effect. However in reality both Senators knew that the might of the Empire, swept along by a tidal wave of popularity, was against them.  
"I think you should leave Coruscant,” he continued as he followed the Senator into her spacious sitting room. “Even if you are unwilling to accept my help, surely you would be safer with your family back on Naboo?”  
“If I return to Naboo, I will only put my family in danger,” said Padmé sadly, pacing up and down. “The Chancellor will only try to track me down. For now I will stay here, to find out what happens next. There may be ways in which we can resist these changes.”  
Seeing that she was resolved, Bail did not try to change her mind. “Very well, but I will be here for you, if need me, Padmé. If there is anything I can do, please do not hesitate to contact me.”  
Faced with his kindness, Padmé embraced the Senator closely. “Thank you, Bail, I know I can rely on you.”  
“Promise me you will keep safe, Padmé.”  
“I promise.”  
Senator Organa took his leave reluctantly, wondering why she remained here alone. Maybe she had additional protection and he wondered if she was waiting for Anakin; the young Jedi had been conspicuous by his absence in the Senate. Years ago he had assumed that Padmé and the young Jedi were more than friends, though quite how much more was a matter for personal interpretation.  
Leaving the sitting room, Padmé headed for her bedroom, eager to rest and get some sleep, she had slept so little in the preceding days. In the hallway she met with Threepio who greeted her warmly. “Mistress Padmé, I am so glad that you have returned. Was the special session in the Senate of much interest?”  
“It was,” said Padmé, her voice flat. “We are no longer the Republic. We have become the Galactic Empire.”  
“An Empire? Why that is very surprising my lady, that seems to suggest to me that the Chancellor has established a dictatorship.”  
In spite of her threatening tears, Padmé laughed, “Yes, Threepio, that’s exactly what has happened.”

Reaching his own apartment block, Bail Organa was approaching the entrance when something made him glance upwards. Most peculiar. Wiping his tired eyes, he looked again. All the lights in his office were on; maybe one of his aides had reached the office before him? Making sure his blaster was at the ready, he decided to take the emergency stairs. It was a long way to the top but it would attract less attention than if he arrived by elevator or activated the communication link. He trusted nothing to chance now.  
Puffing and sweating, Bail climbed the hundreds of stairs (cursing the architects who had made the building so tall) until he was at the entrance to the hallway that led to his suite of rooms. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door to the hallway slowly. He was right to be cautious. As he peered round the corner, he could see the newly christened Imperial guards outside his office, could hear the sounds of crashing and banging no doubt as his world was ripped apart.  
“When did you last see the Senator?” An angry voice, one that Bail recognised as one of the commanders with Coruscant special security, could be heard down the hallway. They were looking for him.  
“Y-Yesterday sir.” That was his assistant. The poor bugger had got there before him after all.  
Knowing that he would be hopelessly outnumbered, he sneaked away back down the stairs. Luckily there was more than one way out of the building.

“I am sorry, Master Obi-wan,” said Threepio fretfully to the Jedi Master, “but the Senator has requested that nothing disturb her for the rest of the evening.”  
After leaving the Temple, Obi-wan had come to Padmé’s apartment to find out what the Senator knew about Anakin’s whereabouts, only to find it shrouded in an atmosphere of gloom. Even Threepio’s usually cheerful demeanour was subdued.   
“Please tell her that I have limited time,” said Obi-wan grimly, not liking his task one bit. He imagined that Padmé would already be devastated by the fall of the Republic; how would the news of Anakin’s fall affect her? “I must see her now.”  
“I’ll try my best,” said Threepio helpful as always.  
Obi-wan waited patiently in the spacious sitting room. Outside the city lay quiet, the Jedi Temple still smouldering on the horizon, the scars of its destruction evident even from this distance against the darkening twilight sky.  
After a while the door opened and Padmé entered, dressed in a long, dark robe that swamped her tiny frame. Her hair had been hastily pulled back into an untidy bun; obviously she had not been expecting any more visitors that evening. “Master Kenobi, I am so sorry to have kept you waiting.”  
“Thank you for seeing me, my lady.” Obi-wan sensed immediately that her mood was bleak. The creation of the Empire was a great blow to this child of the Republic; her whole life devoted to negotiation and legislation, doing what was best for its protection and promulgation.  
“Bail told me that you had come back to Coruscant.” Sitting down on the couch, she looked at him sorrowfully as he took a seat next to her, “You will be in grave danger if the troops find you here.”  
“I know the risks, my lady,” said Obi-wan quietly, “I will not stay long, I came to ensure that you are okay and to ask you if you had seen Anakin recently?”  
“I last saw him yesterday.”  
“Do you know where he is now?”  
“No.” She looked at him searchingly, “Obi-wan, do you know what has happened to him? He seemed so unlike himself.”  
“Padmé,” said Obi-wan, lowering his voice. “I have to tell you something and there’s no easy way to do it. Anakin has turned his back on the Jedi Order.”  
“I thought so,” said Padmé sadly. She remembered Anakin’s words to her, 'The Jedi will come looking for me', and immediately felt torn between her loyalty to him and her awareness that Obi-wan was suffering because of Anakin’s actions.  
“But the situation is far worse than we could ever have imagined. It turns out that Chancellor Palpatine is the Sith Lord that we were looking for. He has manipulated Anakin into becoming his servant.”  
“Anakin is the servant of a Sith?” Aghast, Padmé could barely breathe as she took in this piece of information. “But how is that possible? I have known Palpatine my whole life, his family comes from Naboo-”  
“It might well be true, Padmé, but Palpatine learned to hide his true nature long ago. He has been deceiving the Republic ever since he first came here.”   
“Does Anakin know that he is working for a Sith?” It was her last hope that Anakin too had been deceived.  
He swallowed, reaching the hardest part of his testimony. “My lady, Anakin,” he paused to control the trembling in his voice, “Anakin knows.”  
“I cannot believe it,” exclaimed Padmé vehemently. “Anakin said he wanted to uncover the Sith, to destroy their power! How could this have happened?”  
“I don’t know Padmé.” Obi-wan placed a hand on her shoulder, felt how she shivered. “I need to find him, to find out why he has turned against us.” For a moment he paused, then he said more quietly, “That attack on the Jedi Temple, it wasn’t the army that killed the Jedi.”  
“It wasn’t?”  
“It was Anakin.”  
“No, no, he couldn’t!”  
“Padmé, he killed all the Jedi he could find, without mercy. All that were left, even the youngest.”  
The thought that Anakin had killed children made her think of the new baby she was carrying and she remained silent, trying to take in Obi-wan’s words.  
“He’s not the Anakin we know anymore,” said Obi-wan gently. “Now he has been seduced by the dark side he’ll stop at nothing to increase his power.”  
“I knew he had changed,” said Padmé quietly, clasping her hands together to stop them from shaking. “When I saw him yesterday he was cold, distant. All he talked about was saving the Republic from the Jedi, there was nothing that would change his mind.”  
“Once a Jedi falls under its sway of the dark side it twists your mind, distorts everything that was once good into evil.” He looked into her eyes, knowing that she more than anyone would understand his anguish. “The darkness in Anakin has always have been there but ever since we came back to Coruscant he has been caught between his loyalty to the Order and his seduction, for want of a better word, by Palpatine. I do not know what Palpatine has been telling him but if I know the Sith he will have been manipulated to believe that only they can help him achieve what is rightfully his.”  
“I know he wanted to become a Master,” said Padmé quietly, trying to think back to all the frustrations that Anakin had voiced to her. “He felt the Council were holding him back.”   
“I know, and I should have paid more heed,” said Obi-wan, mentally cursing himself for allowing Anakin to become so embroiled in his negative emotions. “You know I love him; he is my brother. But… we cannot allow him to become more powerful than he already is. The Sith will only exploit his power for their advantage, to destroy the Jedi Order.” Already that process had begun.  
“What are you going to do?”  
“Padmé, he has become a very great threat.”  
Some colour crept into Padmé’s cheeks, “Are you going to kill him?”  
“I don’t want to kill him,” said Obi-wan, quietly. “If he renounces his allegiance to the Sith there may be a way to bring him back to the light side of the Force. But he will never be accepted back into the Jedi Order, not now that he has murdered his own comrades.”   
Relieved that Obi-wan could still see that there was a hope, however small, of saving Anakin, Padmé asked, “What can I do to help?”  
“Did Anakin give you any clues as to where he was going?”  
“Not really,” she said, trying to think back to the brief meeting, “he said that the Chancellor had given him a special mission, to hunt down the remaining Jedi across the Galaxy.”  
“He could be anywhere,” said Obi-wan resignedly, “but I can try and find him using his tracking device. Thank you Padmé, I know you want to protect Anakin but if there is a chance I can get to him, to change his mind, this information will be invaluable.”  
“Please take pity on him, Obi-wan,” said Padmé as the Jedi took his leave, kissing the young woman on the forehead. She clutched at his hands. “There must still be some good within him! Palpatine cannot have extinguished it all.”  
Standing up, Obi-wan nodded. “I hope I can appeal to his good side. But you must be careful, Padmé, remaining here you place yourself in grave danger. Please, come with me now, we can find you somewhere safe…?”  
“They will only come after me,' cut in Padme, repeating what she had said to Bail Organa. 'I cannot leave until I have done all I can.'  
“Very well, but I will be thinking of you, my lady.” With a heavy heart, Obi-wan left.

Bail knew he was now a fugitive on Coruscant; whatever the crimes he was charged with he suspected that he would not have a fair hearing under the new regime. In the absence of a safe office or apartment to return to, he had sought shelter in the Tantive IV. It was also important to inform Captain Antilles of the necessity for a swift departure as soon as Master Yoda and Master Kenobi had completed their assignments.  
“We can only hope that security is not tightened,” said the Captain, tapping his fingers on the table.  
“It will be difficult for the Emperor to control who departs and enters Coruscant,” said Bail with grim satisfaction, “the fleet would have to be called back first. We might just make it out of here before that happens.”  
“Yes, but we have not got long, your Highness,” commented the Captain. Ever since they had returned he had not felt secure in the capital, sensing that the mood had changed as if over night.  
“Yes, time is of the essence,” murmured Bail, wondering what the Jedi were up to, wondering if he should try to convince Senator Amidala one more time that it was folly to remain here. Then his com link started to bleep; “It’s Master Yoda,” he said to the Captain. “Receiving you, Master Yoda.”  
“Permission to return to the ship,” said the spritely Jedi Master’s voice, “in grave danger am I.”  
“We’re on our way,” said Bail as the Captain left the room. “Transmit your co-ordinates to us as soon as you can.”  
Taking one of his speeders, Bail zipped through the skylanes, trying to get as close to Yoda’s location as he could. The signal was coming from the Senate building and Bail could not help but wonder why Master Yoda had gone so close to the dangerous heart of the Sith Lord’s new Empire. He sped along the edge of the Senate building, hoping that none of the guards would see him. As he reached a row of recessed lights, the signal became stronger and he slowed down, opening the cockpit of the speeder. In the next minute, a tiny figure dropped from the recess into the seat beside him. As Yoda recovered from the fall, Bail stepped on the accelerator, screeching away from the Senate building before they could be spotted.  
Breathing heavily with exhaustion and frustration, Yoda straightened his robes out, covered in dust and debris from the tunnels he had crawled through. He didn’t speak for a while.  
“Master Yoda?” Bail wondered what had happened, he had never seen the Jedi Master look so frail, so worn out before.  
“Failed I have to defeat the Sith Lord,” said Yoda eventually, his eyes tinged with disappointment and failure, “Leave Coruscant we must before he finds us.”  
“I can’t disagree with that,” said Bail with little humour, “what about Obi-wan? Shouldn’t we wait for him?”  
Yoda shook his head. “Another mission Obi-wan has that takes him away from Coruscant. Find somewhere safe we must, to wait for him there.”


	9. Mustafa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Former brothers, Anakin and Obi-wan fight each other on Mustafa. Obi-wan tries his best to turn Anakin back to the Light but the terrible conditions on the fiery planet - and Anakin's descent into madness - work against him. 
> 
> WARNING - violence and horror as Anakin is burnt by lava.

On the planet of Mustafa, a young and volatile world shaped by raging volcanic storms and tectonic movements that battered the crust with earthquakes, Anakin Skywalker stood next to the body of Jedi Master Ronan Outkayer, the first of many he had been tasked to execute. Only a moment ago he had communicated his triumph to his new Master, Lord Sidious, who had praised him for his growing strength and ability. Now he was ready to depart for his next mission, the co-ordinates had already been handed to him, but there was something troubling the former Jedi.  
For a long moment he stared at the steaming lava pits that covered the surface of the planet.  
They reflected his soul, a state of continual turmoil, unbalanced and uncontrolled. A sludgy concoction of fear, anger, despair, anguish, frustration... And lust for power. It was trying to dominate everything within him now – enticing him in, trying to get him to give into its addictive and gripping demands. Telling him it was all he could want, all he could need…  
But was it what he truly wanted? He did not know anymore. Not long ago all he had wanted was the life of a Jedi Knight, free to roam the Galaxy. Then he had wanted someone to love him, which he had found in Padmé. But now his embrace of the dark side was warping him. He could feel it twisting his insides, moulding his instincts and shaping them under its cruel dictates. For that he hated himself, hated himself for giving into the dark instincts he had fought to control his whole life. Some of that hate and anger was directed against the very Sith Lord he purported to serve, much of it against the Jedi Order who had failed him, but mostly it was directed against himself. Clenching his metallic fist, he fought to stop the tears but they stung his eyes, only making it worse as he rubbed them impatiently with his stained and blackened fingers. At that moment, he wasn’t truly anybody anymore – he wasn’t Anakin Skywalker, he wasn’t the new apprentice of a Sith lord. He had tipped the balance between light and darkness but the darkness had not consumed him completely yet, there was still a glimmer of his hopes dimly shining. But still the question was whispered on the shrieking winds – for how long?  
As he meditated beside the cliff edge, he suddenly felt the whisper of a familiar presence, someone close to him. His comlink crackled into life; “A lone fighter is approaching, General Skywalker,” said the tinny voice, “it’s a Republic ship. What would you have us do?”  
“Allow the ship to land, I will deal with it.” Anakin’s curiosity got the better of him; who could have traced him out here?

For several minutes Obi-wan sat in the cockpit of his fighter, gathering his strength for the unenviable task ahead of him. He had landed on the only available space, a battered, lava encrusted platform rocked by the continuous explosions from the mountains around. There was no sky to speak of; it was shrouded in dark, writhing clouds of dust and wracked with bursts of raging lava. Through the endlessly falling soot he could see to the north a curious looking tower, built into the rock and to the front a control centre that looked out over the lava streams; he wondered how anyone had managed to settle on this forsaken place.  
Checking the scanners, he noticed that the air contained a cocktail of elements but was generally breathable for short amounts of time. He was reaching for his lightsaber when he saw a movement outside.  
A dark-clad figure was hurrying along the balcony that connected the tower with the platform. Even from this distance he could identify Anakin from his height and the lithe grace with which he carried himself.  
Climbing out of his cockpit, Obi-wan came face to face with his former padawan on the landing platform. “Hello, Anakin.”  
“What brings you here, Obi-wan?”  
As Anakin removed his hood, immediately Obi-wan saw that there was something different about him. Darkness clouded his eyes; there was a glower that had not existed in his brow before. The fragile structure of his face seemed hardened somehow, his skin drawn more tightly over the bone. “I am worried about you, Anakin,” he began, holding up his hands in a peaceful gesture, not wishing to provoke his friend from the outset. “I have heard, and seen, some terrible things.”  
“What things?” His eyes narrowed.  
“The destruction of the Temple, the murder of Jedi,” said Obi-wan simply, “these are the work of the Sith, not the Anakin Skywalker I know.”  
“The man you knew will soon be no more,” said the young man coldly. “You may not accept it, Obi-wan, but only the Sith can help me to become the powerful Jedi I should be.”  
“What, by ordering you to kill your own comrades?” cried Obi-wan, sensing that his friend was much further down the dark path than he had anticipated. “Can’t you see that this is madness? Why Anakin?”  
“The Jedi intend to destroy the Republic.” He stared at his former mentor, the red scar that ran down his face more livid than ever, “I cannot let that happen.”  
“The Sith is manipulating you!” said Obi-wan impatiently, “you say you are loyal to the Republic but as of yesterday, the Republic is no more, dissolved by the Chancellor that you saved! Instead we have a Galactic Empire, ruled by tyranny under a Sith!”  
“That’s not true,” protested Anakin, remembering Sidious’ words to him, go forth and bring peace to the Republic. “The Chancellor is working in the best interests of the Republic!”  
Warily the two men circled each other; both fuelled by anger, although one was so controlled by his anger he was consumed by it.  
“Listen to me Anakin, he is lying to you! Can’t you see that he is making you into the very thing that you swore to destroy?”  
Anakin glowered at his former Master, “No, it was the lies of the Jedi that threatened the Republic. They were too afraid to let me use the powers that are available to me but Sidious has opened my eyes to the truth. I do not fear the dark side as you do.”  
“But you fear something, don’t you Anakin?” Obi-wan wondered if it was to do with Padmé, he sensed great confusion in the former Jedi’s mind underneath all the bombast and bravado. It have him a tiny glimmer of hope that there was still a chance to save him.  
“I fear nothing,” replied Anakin grandly. “I know I am not powerful enough to defeat the Sith yet,” he went on, hoping to convince Obi-wan that he was acting in the best interests of the Republic, “but with every moment I feel my power growing. I can learn from Sidious; I will become more powerful than him and I can defeat him and bring balance to the Force as the prophecy states. Help me Obi-wan, help me to defeat the Sith and together we can restore the Republic and bring peace to the Galaxy.”  
This was a revelation to Obi-wan; was Anakin trying to convince him that he had only joined the Sith to destroy him? However, Yoda’s caution echoed in his mind, “How can I know that you are telling the truth, Anakin? How can I tell that you are not trying to manipulate me too?”  
Disappointed, Anakin said coldly, “If you won’t help me, Obi-wan, then you too will be treated as an enemy of the Republic.”  
This was ridiculous, “We want the same thing, Anakin, an end to the Sith and the restoration of the Republic! How does this make you my enemy?”  
Anakin remained silent, staring at his friend, unable to make sense of the conflict within him. His former Master was right; they did want the same things. How had they ended up on different sides?  
“Anakin, there is still good in you, Padmé knows it, I know it…”  
The mention of his love provoked Anakin back towards anger, “What do you know about Padmé?”  
“I know she still loves you despite the change she sees in you,” said Obi-wan, “what you are doing will only hurt her!”  
“Everything I have done, I have done for Padmé and the survival of the Republic,” said Anakin slowly, as though he were explaining his reasons to a child. “It’s the only way I can save her.”  
“Save her?”  
“To save her from death,” the young man spat, “she’s going to die, I saw it! The Sith have the power to save her, I need that power!”  
Obi-wan looked sadly at his friend, convinced that Anakin was still there, somewhere, buried beneath the fear and loathing which he had let consume him. “Anakin, the Sith do not have the power to stop death. No one has that power. It is the will of the Force.”  
“That’s not what I have heard.” Anakin refused to believe him, knowing that the Jedi were apt to diminish the achievements of the Sith.  
“Think about what this is doing to Padmé,” pressed Obi-wan, hoping that he could get his friend to see reason by focusing on his love for her. “She needs you now, more than ever, and you have left her in the most dangerous place she could be. She is at the mercy of the Emperor! She doesn’t want power paid for with Jedi’s blood, she only wants your love!”  
“Love isn’t enough,” replied Anakin quietly, “to save her. I won’t let her be lost to me like my mother was.”  
“So you’d rather destroy everything that she believes in?”  
It was beginning to prey on Anakin’s mind how Obi-wan knew so much about Padmé. “What have you been telling her?” he growled, his hand itching to draw his lightsaber.  
“Only the truth, Anakin,” shouted Obi-wan over the roaring lava, “that the Emperor is using you for his own ends!”  
“He wants to help me,” shouted Anakin back, dark images assaulting his already overwrought mind, “which is more than I can say for the Jedi Council!”  
“The Emperor doesn’t want you,” insisted Obi-wan, still backing away from conflict, “he only wants you for your power and your strength; he doesn’t care what happens to you, not like Padmé and I.”  
Padmé and I… “I will not listen to your lies any longer,” said the young Sith, finally brandishing his lightsaber. “The Jedi would plunge the Galaxy into chaos!”  
“Anakin, our allegiance is to the Republic, to peace…”  
“As I said, if you’re not with me, then you’re my enemy.”  
Obi-wan knew it was pointless to argue any more with Anakin. “Then you are lost!” Drawing his lightsaber he looked resignedly at his former student, “I will do what I must.”  
“You will try.” And with a desperate cry, Anakin launched himself at Obi-wan, swinging his lightsaber down with such force that Obi-wan almost fell. But he recovered quickly, blocking the attack, the sparks flying as their blades clashed. The battle for Anakin’s soul had begun.  
Obi-wan had to concentrate continually to even defend himself from the frenzied attacks of Anakin, trying every trick in the book, making up new tricks where there were none he could draw on. It was a desperate fight and he shuddered with despair as he increasingly realised that he was fighting for his life.  
“Don't make me destroy you, Master,” Anakin said quietly during a lull in the fighting, “You're no match for the dark side.”  
Breathing heavily, watching his every move, Obi-wan could hardly believe what he was hearing; “What do you stand to gain Anakin? I hope it’s worth it!”  
“You wouldn’t understand!” Launching himself towards his former mentor, Anakin chased Obi-wan across the landing platform, forcing him to take the narrow path that ran alongside the complex. Feeling Anakin’s blade close to him, Obi-wan turned and parried the furious attacks, the quarters much closer now, sparks flying into their clothes, their hair. Both of them fell heavily to the path, slippery from the soot, and in the confusion Anakin dropped his lightsaber. Seizing his chance, Obi-wan grabbed it; but he had reckoned without Anakin’s vicious determination. Kicking him hard in the shin, Anakin smiled as his lightsaber fell from Obi-wan’s hands only for the older Jedi to roll away at the last minute.  
“You owe everything to the Jedi,” he said as he picked himself up, warily regarding his friend for a moment as Anakin paused for breath. He wondered what was driving Anakin, why was he so determined to throw everything away for the manipulations and transient power of the dark side? “They made you what you are! How can you betray them like this?”  
“No Obi-wan, the war made me not the Jedi.” Anakin glared at him, “Come on, why don’t you just kill me. Or can’t you?” he goaded, watching as Obi-wan flinched, “but then we are very alike you and I. Both of us have attachment issues…”  
Provoked, Obi-wan rushed towards him, their sabers flying together in perfect symmetry as they continued to fight along the path, heading towards the lava fields. As Anakin advanced towards Obi-wan, he ripped cables and columns from the compound’s walls to send them flying towards the Jedi, who swiftly deflected them with his lightsaber. Glancing behind him, Obi-wan saw that the path was fast running out; wondering what he was going to do next, in desperation, Obi-wan aimed a kick at Anakin, finding purchase in the young man’s stomach. In surprise, Anakin collapsed to the walkway, fighting to catch his breath as the blow knocked all the air from his lungs. Anxious to get some distance between him and the former Jedi, Obi-wan did not stop to see how successful he was and headed out across the lava fields, embarrassed that he had to resort to such devious tricks in his efforts against his former friend.

Waiting in his office, Sidious sat at his desk silently. It had taken him a long time to subdue the Republic and bend it to his will, years of patient planning and manipulation. Sowing the seeds of corruption and doubt. Now he had to tread carefully, making sure that he retained the upper hand against the arrogant Jedi. Hearing the door open, he looked up as Mas Amadda entered the room. “Have you ensured that the Loyalist Senators have been subdued?”  
“I regret to say, my Lord, that most of them have already left Coruscant except for Senator Amidala.”  
“Left?”  
“We have searched their offices and apartments and it is clear that most of them fled days ago,” Mas Amadda retained his downcast stance. “We can only assume that our intentions towards them were leaked.”  
“It is of no matter, they are of little consequence now,” replied the Emperor, his suspicions about his aide reinforced by his obvious lack of imagination. “Senator Amidala will have to do.”  
The communicator buzzed on his desk and Sidious went to answer it. “Yes, what is it?”  
“A message from Mustafa, my Lord. It seems that the wanted Jedi Master Obi-wan Kenobi has landed on the planet. Skywalker said he would deal with the threat, my Lord, but we thought it wise to inform you.”  
“Thank you, Commander.” Sidious looked troubled for a moment, then pressed the communicator again. “Tell Captain Kagi to prepare my shuttle immediately.”

They had been fighting for hours and exhaustion was beginning to take its toll. It had not taken Anakin long to find Obi-wan; he was like a man possessed, driven only by anger and hatred for what he believed was holding him back, had always held him back from reaching his full potential. Obi-wan could only defend himself; Anakin had driven him away from his ship, his only method of leaving the planet, and now their fight had taken them out onto the dangerous lava fields. Sweat glistened on his forehead, soaked his tunic. But neither of them was prepared to back down, not least Obi-wan who was still convinced that he could help his friend recover from the madness that seemed to have consumed him.  
“Anakin, stop this!” cried Obi-wan, parrying yet another relentless lightsaber attack, "don't you realise what you're doing!”  
“Oh I realise,” said Anakin, glowering at his former Master.  
“You're not just letting me down," continued Obi-wan, hoping to appeal to Anakin’s good side, hidden somewhere inside the monster. He tried to sense it, tried to grasp his friend's compassion. But all he could feel was unchecked and uncontrolled hatred and rage emanating out in waves. It seemed to be the only thing keeping the young man going. “Remember your mother! Remember Qui-Gon! Remember how they believed in you!”  
Anakin's face contorted as he remembered the kind Qui-Gon, his mother's kind and beautiful face; perturbed, he relaxed his grip slightly on the lightsaber, still raining blow upon blow against Obi-wan but with less power than before.  
Obi-wan felt his confusion, hoped against hope that he was getting somewhere. “You don't have to do this Anakin,” he panted. “Think about Padmé… Do you really think she can be with you, knowing what you have done?”  
“She loves me,” raged Anakin, but more pathetically, hardly seeing now the man he was fighting, his mind a blur of images and feelings. Unable to concentrate, he lowered his lightsaber, the conflict registering on his face, tears stinging his eyes. The heat was so intense that they had fizzled out before they could fall, burning his eyes. Desperate, Anakin tried to sense what was in his former mentor's mind, what was he trying to tell him? But he couldn't see through the fog of confusion created by his own rage, and he slumped forward, battling the thoughts in his head.  
Seeing Anakin's defeatist position, thinking he was making some headway, Obi-wan lowered his lightsaber. “But you have to earn love Anakin. You can't demand it or try to control it. What you are doing has only hurt her!”  
“Don't say that,” cried Anakin, his hands shaking with the effort of keeping his position, his eyes staring blindly as he fought to contain his feelings. “Don't say that! She loves me and she always will.”  
“But if you continue along this path you know you can’t be together.”  
Something stirred in his heart, a vision of Padmé pleading with him, begging him to go away with her, her beautiful eyes filled with sadness. How could he have refused her? “She loves me,” he repeated, but with less conviction.  
Obi-wan sensed an alteration in Anakin's feelings, still suppressed under his morbid pride. “Come back, Anakin, please. Give all this up.”  
The tears were falling thick and fast now. Anakin wanted her love; he wanted to hold her like he had in the past, when their love was all that mattered. But love wasn't the only thing that mattered to him now. Why should he give up what he had now? His power? That nagging voice; the seeds sown by his evil mentor were too thickly sown to be ignored - what would he be without power? Why should he be content with one person's love when he could have the whole galaxy? Why should he be loved when he could be feared! Crying out in anger and frustration, he came for Obi-wan again, striking the blade of the saber so hard sparks flew around them like burning fireflies.  
Beneath them the rocky crust began to buckle and steam under the strain of the lava beneath it. It was as though the sheer anger of the fight was spilling over into the landscape around them - the more they fought, the more the lava boiled and bubbled around them. The black sludge cracked open, the hot magma oozing out over the blasted rock dangerously close to the two men. Lava bombs rained down onto the fields of rock, gushing forth from the cracked and broken edges where the rock had split. Like a giant gaping mouth it issued forth stream after stream of billowing hot lava.  
Anakin cried out as hot ash struck him from behind, causing him to bolt for a nearby outcrop of rock to find shelter, whilst Obi-wan dashed towards another pile of rocks. There they both waited as the scalding ash and rock continued to rain down around them.  
“Is this how you want it to end?” yelled Kenobi above the noise, “with both of us dead?”  
“Only one of us will be dead,” growled Anakin. He grasped his lightsaber tightly, shaking as he fought the urge to rush out into the lava storm and finish Obi-wan off. His anger was so strong that he felt actual pain, the years of frustration and bitterness driving a wedge deep into his soul. Driven mad by his feelings, he rushed round the opposite end of the outcrop towards Obi-wan, “And it won't be me!”  
Obi-wan rolled away, rather to face the lava than the anger of his former friend. As he parried another series of devastating blows, he realised that it was too late to save Anakin. He was allowing himself to be completely overtaken by the dark side; he was too far down the path which would lead to his doom. He was a Sith. But he still couldn’t destroy him, even when he looked into that angry and manic face, he still saw the young man whom he had patiently trained and tried to control the streak in his character that had led them to this moment. He still saw the friend with whom he had shared many adventures, who had saved him time and time again, over and above the restraints of the Jedi Code. Anakin had never been perfect, but he was the closest that Obi-wan had ever come to a friend during all his years as a Jedi. They had been closer than most brothers, than most Jedi ever were. Closer even than he was to Qui-Gon. And now he was seeing Anakin but he was unrecognisable, transformed by anger and the need for control into a dark version of the good, caring young man who had fought hard to become accepted by the Council. If only he had taken more heed of the small beginnings of the rage and anger he demonstrated now!  
But worse of all, it forced Obi-wan to reflect that perhaps he had failed Anakin. Even with his faults, Anakin was the Chosen One; he was brave, seemingly without any fear, caring and devoted to his friends. The Anakin he knew always knew what was right, even if he was prepared to bend the rules when it seemed necessary. Where had he gone wrong? Had he been too strict? Had he been too lax? As the hum of the sabers filled his senses, Obi-wan was almost on autopilot as he sought the answer to the questions that plagued him. Why had Anakin kept secrets from him? Why hadn’t he trusted him?  
Immersed in the toxic atmosphere, the two men were soon exhausted. Anakin could barely lift his arm to hack, Obi-wan could barely life his arm to parry the blow. Worse, they were mired in the volcanic mud, desperately trying to keep away from the edge of the pit that loomed at the edge of the mountain they fought on. And neither was the ground stable, shaking with a force stronger than both men; the volcano was erupting all around them, showering ash and pyroclasts upon the assailants, filling their eyes and noses with smoke, obscuring their vision until they were reduced to blind fumblings, merely sensing each other’s presence.  
Then Anakin seemed to pull himself together and with a surge of strength, increased the attack on his oppressed mentor. Locked against each other the two friends turned enemies stared into each other’s eyes. Obi-wan saw that the once clear blue eyes of Anakin were tinged with sickly yellow, the influence of the dark side reinforcing its hold upon him and suffocating any of his former self. Yet he could sense that Anakin was not completely lost, the conflict within him evident. If only he could grasp that good, bring it to the fore…  
“Anakin, don’t do this,” he gasped through gritted teeth as he strained to keep his position, the two sabres joined in deadly embrace. “You’re my friend, my brother! I love you!”  
Faltering Anakin stared at his former mentor incomprehensibly. Never had Obi-wan admitted the depth of his feelings before.  
Rumblings beneath their feet indicated that the mountain was on the move. Obi-wan felt his feet begin to slide as the battered rock broke away under the force of the continual eruptions. With a cry, Anakin fell backwards as the rock beneath his feet finally shifted, heading downwards relentlessly towards the edge of the pit below. Stumbling Obi-wan tried to grab his tunic but the material, weakened and torn, ripped in his fingers. And then Anakin was falling, trying desperately to grab hold of something, anything but unable to stop his descent, taking him closer and closer to the craggy jaws of the lava’s maw.  
Obi-wan was slipping too, feeling closer to death than he had ever been before in all his life. Forgive me Master, he spoke a silent entreaty to Qui-Gon in his head, for I have failed you.  
Rocks slipped past Anakin as he desperately scrabbled for purchase, his fingers burning on the heat singed rocks but he was losing the battle to save himself and with a cry he disappeared over the edge.  
Rising up behind him, the heat singed the back of Obi-wan’s head; burning the tender, exposed flesh on his neck until he could barely breathe. It was then that he heard the familiar voice in his head, calm and serene amongst the chaos erupting around him. Patience, it cautioned, patience, and as he relaxed, Obi-wan reached out, trusting his instincts rather than precision. As his fingers raked through the boiling mud he felt it, managing to grab hold of a rock hidden just below the surface. Still the mountain shook but he had found purchase and held on as the noise roared around him and the falling rocks struck every inch of his body.  
“Help me! Help!”  
Hearing his friend’s hoarse cries, Obi-wan waited until the rumblings abated then made his way down carefully to the edge of the cliff before peering over.  
Anakin was below him, clinging to the side of the pit with his mechanical hand. Beneath him swelled a fiery lake, burping and erupting with each movement of the lava. The top of his body was strained against the ragged rock face, hanging precariously over the oozing stream of lava. Blood poured from a gaping wound on his scalp, trickling down the side of his face and leaving trails through the soot.  
“Help me, Obi-wan,” begged Anakin, reaching out with his free hand. “Please!”  
“I can’t Anakin, I can’t reach you,” he shouted above the noise of the lava, the shrieks of the wind.  
“Please try!” Anakin’s eyes were huge with fear, already the heat was singing his hair and he could feel that the walls of the pit were not stable. They could fall at any minute. “Don’t leave me!”  
Obi-wan thought of all the times he had told Anakin not to save him, not to risk his life for his. And Anakin had ignored him time and time again; could he really leave him for dead? Even after all he had done?  
Lying down on his belly in the mud, Obi-wan reached down into the pit, straining with all his might to reach Anakin’s stretched fingers. But it was no good, he was too far away and to lean over anymore would send him down into the pit with him. Casting his eyes around for inspiration he saw a glint of metal; it was Anakin’s lightsaber, abandoned when he had fallen. Stretching his fingers almost to their limits, he was able to just catch the gleaming metal and roll it towards him. Grasping it tightly, he reached down again, “Anakin, grab hold!”  
Exhausted and burnt by the spluttering lava, Anakin could hardly reach. “Just… a little lower,” he whispered huskily.  
His arm almost pulled from its socket, Obi-wan felt Anakin’s fingers brush the lightsaber. He felt the back of his neck prickling. At the same time he happened to glance down. His eyes were drawn to Anakin’s. There was something unnatural about their expression; in their murky depths he saw not the clear, open eyes of his friend but the livid, sickly eyes of the Sith.  
Obi-wan hesitated.  
The mountain moved.  
Jolted by the quake, Obi-wan nearly fell into the pit, just managing to grab the edge with his fingertips. Fragments of stone and rock pelted down from the scree above, shaken loose in the tumult, striking his head, his shoulders and back. But still Obi-wan clung on, the joints in his fingers straining as he clutched the rock.  
It was then that he heard the screams.  
First he had to get out of the pit. Finding a purchase, he clambered up the abrasive rock face, and hauled himself out using his last reserves of strength until he was lying on his belly by its lip. Climbing to his knees he peered down.  
Below him, Anakin was screaming and screaming. It was nothing like Obi-wan had heard before. Half fallen into the lava, he was clawing at the rock face as the lava corroded him, burning his skin away, eating away even to the bones with its searing heat. His face was no longer twisted with malice, but with immense suffering, his eyes so bloodshot that there was no longer any white, the black pupils burning a void into his soul, empty of everything but pain.  
As Obi-wan stared down with horror, Anakin looked up at him. “I hate you!” he shrieked, his feelings for his former Master changed beyond all recognition. He was barely able to fight the rising sludge and only his anger and hatred was keeping him alive now, every last shred of conflict in his mind eaten away to leave only the purity of evil. “You leave me here to die!”  
Obi-wan climbed to his feet, not able to see what he could do. The Anakin he knew was lost to him. “You were our hope, the Chosen One! Supposed to bring light yet you leave us in darkness!” Choking on his tears, tears of sadness, of failure and shattered hopes, Obi-wan crawled away, leaving his friend, his beloved brother to the vagaries of his destiny.  
“I hate you!” Anakin’s breathing was strenuous and harsh; he couldn’t have long to live. He struggled to cling onto the rock with his remaining mechanical hand, fighting the lava flow that was trying to drag him into his sludgy depths. “I hate you, I hate you!” he screamed as the lava crept up to his chest, burning without mercy, eating away at his skin… the heat crept higher and higher until a sudden surge covered his face and neck, burning away any last vestiges of the man, leaving him blackened, hairless, fragile.

“Come in Senator Organa.” Back in his fighter, Obi-wan had tried to contact Bail several times but he wasn’t having any luck on any frequency.  
“Master… Kenobi,” finally the communications channel spluttered into life, “we are receiving you. Where are you?”  
“I’ve just left Mustafa,” replied Kenobi, “I’m about two parsecs east of the sixth quadrant.”  
Bail’s voice came through the static, “We’ll send you the co-ordinates for our position.”  
“Thank you, Senator,” Obi-wan knew as well as Bail did that they had to keep moving. The reach of the new Emperor was as yet unknown but it was not the best time in the Galaxy to be a Jedi. “Is Master Yoda with you?”  
“Yes, he is. And someone else who you might be interested to see, Master Kenobi.”

He didn’t know how much longer he could hang on. But the remains of Anakin Skywalker had managed to claw his way slowly, inch by painful inch up the side of the pit using the last remaining mechanical parts of his body. At times he could feel he was slipping, but the desire to avoid sliding back into a lava-ry death spurred him on. He might as well be dead; most of him was burned away. But still he crawled onward, barely able to see or breathe. Only knowing he had to move upwards, away from the heat. Is this what it is to die? It was as though he was trapped inside gauzed curtains, hung and fractured with images of horror, the murders he had committed, the lives he had taken as though on some endless horror-show replay. Was he dreaming? Had he really done those things? But these moments of lucidity were less and less now. More often he thought of death, of revenge, of power, of hatred. His vision was growing darker and darker; the pain engulfed him until he could no longer feel himself. But he couldn’t scream, could only move upwards, away from death.

“My Lord, he is down there.” The Imperial soldier pointed down towards the lava field as the Emperor emerged from his shuttle, landing only metres away from where Obi-wan’s fighter had recently taken off.  
The landing platform was all but sinking under the weight of the lava encroaching the fields around and Sidious knew he did not have much time. Peering into the choking atmosphere, the Sith grasped his cane tightly. “I hope there is enough of him left.” He had been patient for years, carefully seducing the young man that was the great hope of the Jedi Order, slowly manipulating his mind with suggestion and praise. It had been beyond all his expectations when Anakin had finally chosen to ally himself with the Sith, yet all that would come to nought if his prize was damaged. There was a lot of potential in that young man; potential that he needed.  
The Emperor climbed with difficulty across the molten plain, holding his long robes close to protect himself from the intense heat. Eventually he reached the edge of the pit where the remains of Anakin Skywalker had been found. Seeing the burnt husk, the skin blackened and torn, Sidious emitted a sharp intake of breath. Aside from the mechanical hand and leg only Anakin’s eyes – great, staring eyes which had seen too much death and hatred in such a short time - were recognisable. Even the Sith’s black heart was moved to see what had become of his most promising apprentice. But his power was still there and the hatred that fed it. The Emperor was pleased; he could still feel the Force emanating from the dulled wreckage of a man that had once shone so brightly.  
He sent two troops to lift Anakin to safety, which they managed but with difficulty. The screams were terrible but at least it meant that the former Jedi was still alive.  
“Get the medical team quickly,” growled Sidious, looking with a strange expression at Anakin’s writhing remains. Going over to him, he placed his hand on the wrecked forehead sensing that life was slipping away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit, I was so disappointed with the climatic fight in Revenge of the Sith. The idea of Anakin and Obi-wan battling it out amongst volcanic mountains and rivers of lava always sounded amazing in my head. But then the film put strange droids and floating boards into the lava for Anakin to jump around on and this never fitted with the dramatic tension the scene needed in my opinion. Without the droids it would have been so much better! So this is my attempt to make it more like the vision I've always had of it in my head since I first watched and read Star Wars - A New Hope.


	10. The Making of Vader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-wan travels to Polis Massa, where he finds Bail Organa, Senator Amidala, Master Yoda and other survivors of the Jedi Order hiding out from the Empire. Meanwhile on Coruscant, Sidious does all he can to preserve the remains of Anakin Skywalker, making him 'more machine than man.'

The co-ordinates given to him by Bail Organa led Obi-wan to Polis Massa, a remote settlement hidden in an asteroid belt far from Coruscant. Known to the Jedi as an emergency sanctuary, Obi-wan was not surprised to find several of his comrades had fled here following the change in the Temple’s coded signal. Whilst he was pleased to see them, he was even more anxious to be reunited with Senator Organa and Master Yoda. Eventually he found Bail resting in one of the colony’s spacious meeting rooms, along with another, familiar face.  
“Senator Amidala,” said Obi-wan upon seeing the young woman sat conversing animatedly with Bail, “You decided to leave Coruscant after all!”  
"She finally saw reason,' agreed Bail, glancing at the young woman.  
“I didn’t have much choice in the end,” said Padmé ruefully, immediately getting up as the Jedi Master approached. Taking his hands, she looked with concern at his scorched and blackened tunic, the soot that coated his face and hair. “What's happened to you?”  
Exhausted physically and emotionally after the ordeal on Mustafa, Obi-wan squeezed her hands gently. “I have much to tell you, believe me.”  
“As have we,” said Bail meaningfully. “I know you will be impatient, Padmé, to hear what Master Kenobi has to say but shall we allow him to at least have a bath first?”  
“Of course, I am forgetting myself,” said the young woman anxiously, “you must be exhausted, Obi-wan.”  
“I am,” admitted the Jedi, “so if you don’t mind I’ll go and clean myself up and meet you back here?”  
“We will not be going far,” smiled Bail, “Master Yoda is also close by, he wished to have some time in meditation but I am sure he will not mind being disturbed now that you have arrived here safely.”

On Coruscant it was raining heavily, the lightening flashing between the tall buildings at the heart of the city’s governing complex. The Emperor’s shuttle landed close to one of those buildings, its ramp slowly lowering to emit the crib carrying the sorry remains of Anakin Skywalker. Behind them walked Lord Sidious, barking orders at his staff to take Anakin as quickly as they could to the medical centre. There, Anakin was found to be alive but barely; for the medics, Coruscant’s finest, it had been the worst case of burning they had ever seen in their working life.  
“By all rights this young man should be dead,” said the chief medic in astonishment, reading the charts handed to him by a nearby droid. “Are you sure you want him to be kept alive?”  
“Yes, it is imperative,” said Sidious harshly, not wanting to know the doctor’s judgement unless it was positive. He would not admit it but the battle with the Jedi had weakened him; he needed to grow strong again, he needed someone strong to take control of things. For there was much to be done. “Do what you can.”  
“Yes, my Lord,” said the medic cautiously, “but it will be a slow process. His lungs are too damaged to breathe on their own so we will have to provide him with artificial respiration. All of his limbs except the two mechanical attachments have burnt away and will have to be replaced. His skin will be too fragile to be exposed to daylight and we will have to encase in him some kind of suit until he is fully healed.”  
Sidious peered down at his apprentice in the incubator, hooked up to the machines that were keeping him alive. “Encase him in a suit you say?”  
“Yes, he will be more of a cyborg than a human being.”  
“Excellent. It will have to be something that will suit the personality of Lord Vader.” For that was the new name that Sidious had chosen for his apprentice; Anakin Skywalker would truly be no more.

“Padmé, tell me first how you came to be here.” With Obi-wan cleaned up and fed, he had met with the two Senators and the venerable Master Yoda to discuss what had happened in his absence. For the moment it was easer to dwell on the young Senator’s concerns rather than go over the recent horror of his ferocious duel with his former friend.  
Haltingly, Padmé explained that in the immediate aftermath of the special session of the Senate, very little had happened. “I tried to contact the other Loyalist senators, however most of them had already fled Coruscant. I was only able to make contact with Terr and he warned me that we were both marked out for arrest so I should leave Coruscant. I’m ashamed to say I didn’t believe him,” said the young woman, her eyes downcast, “before he left, Anakin said that he had made the Chancellor promise that I would not be implicated in the plot to overthrow the Republic.”  
“But that turned out to be a lie?” asked Obi-wan gently.  
“Yes,” said Padmé, her voice almost a whisper. Rallying herself, she continued with her story. “Not long after I contacted Terr, I received a warning from an unknown source that the troops were on their way to arrest me. I didn’t know what to do but Elle in her wisdom made me swap clothes with her. I didn’t want to, believe me, but she insisted that she would face the danger and allow me to escape. She was so selfless.” For a moment, the Senator’s voice cracked, remembering the calm and loyal handmaiden who had served her so faithfully for many years.  
“Then you managed to escape from Coruscant?”  
“Yes, I took only Threepio with me, claiming that I was on business for Senator Amidala which necessitated a return to Naboo. Fortunately security believed my story and I was able to leave that same day. I was lucky, other Senators have not been so fortunate. The Empire is intent on arresting anyone they claim is a rebel or insurrectionist without trial.”  
“The true nature of a dictatorship,” said Bail coldly, taking Padmé’s hand to calm her obvious distress. “I am glad that you finally saw sense and agreed to leave that place.”  
“But what about Anakin?” whispered Padmé through her tears, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. "Did you... find him?"  
All eyes turned to Obi-wan, who took a deep breath. “My lady, I have only terrible news concerning Anakin. As far as I know he is dead.”  
Immediately, Padmé burst into fresh tears, Bail gathering her towards him, “There, there, Padmé.”  
“Not dead, Obi-wan,” said Yoda quietly, “his presence in the Force I still feel, even if much weakened.”  
Surprised at the Jedi Master’s words, Obi-wan explained to them what had happened to Anakin from his perspective; the duel on Mustafa, Anakin’s justification for what he had done and his refusal to renounce the dark path he had chosen. He explained their fight on the edge of the mountain, how Anakin had fallen and he had been unable to save him. Poor Padmé quietened at this point in the story, pleased to hear that Obi-wan had not left Anakin to die and done all he could to save him.  
“I do not know how he could have survived the lava,” said Obi-wan, turning back to Master Yoda, “once it had finished with him there was not much of him left.”  
“Search your feelings,” murmured Yoda, looking at Obi-wan intently, “alive he still is.”  
“Then it is only his hatred which keeps him alive now. I doubt there is much of Anakin Skywalker left.”  
Bail had been listening with increasing disbelief. “I cannot believe he has turned to the dark side of the Force. I only knew him to be loyal and courageous; he was such a promising young man.”  
Yoda nodded, “Promising he was. But fallen into the trap laid for him by the Sith, he has.”  
“I do not know how Sidious managed it,” said Obi-wan dismally, “but Master Qui-Gon was right all along. He knew that the Sith would seek to seduce Anakin to their side and Anakin played right into their hands!”  
Yoda sensed that there was an undercurrent to Obi-wan’s unhappiness, “Blame yourself do not, Obi-wan. This none of us could see.”  
“But I saw his frustration, his anger. I knew he needed help but I failed to help him properly.” The Jedi Master wearily wiped his brow, still unable to give himself over to his anguish. He had believed that he could train Anakin, knowing full well the rage inside him; he had in many ways left him open to being manipulated by others, allowed him to be poisoned by the Sith, had not been there for him when he needed him most. Anakin had been a handful and he had not been sufficiently prepared to take him on. He had never really understood the needs of the young man Qui-Gon had entrusted to him. He had tried but it had not been enough.  
“If anyone should take some of the blame it is me,” said Padmé sadly, wishing that she could have had this conversation with Obi-wan many years ago. “We knew that falling in love was wrong, that it would mean the end of Anakin’s career as a Jedi. But we allowed it to happen, we took the risk.”  
Despite the deception that the two young people had maintained, Obi-wan could not help but feel compassion for the young woman who had loved Anakin as much, if not more, then he had. “I would not regret your love for Anakin, Padmé,” he said tenderly, taking her hand, “it must have been a comfort to him. He always spoke of you fondly.”  
Bail closed his eyes momentarily, in remembrance of the young man who had impressed him so much with his fortitude and his courage. The young man with the winning smile and the charming manner.  
For once Yoda said nothing, seeing that Anakin’s fall was something that Obi-wan must come to terms with in his own manner, even if that meant giving in to his emotions. Anakin’s fall had been a terrible realisation for them all.

For days, Vader’s body was kept in an incubator as they sought to preserve his fragile body. Nobody knew what was going on in his mind during that time but the screams were enough to unnerve even the most hardened officer. They echoed around the halls of the medical bay night after night, the young Sith’s body writhing as though in never-ending torment. While sleep was denied to him, his dreams tortured him even more.  
“His wounds are beginning to heal slightly better now we have placed him in the sterile chamber,” reported the chief medical droid to the Emperor, gesturing to the prone body of Lord Vader. Careful administration of painkiller had also stopped him thrashing around in agony but they could do nothing to help his breathing, the rattling hoarseness still resounding in the otherwise peaceful medical chamber even with the aid of breathing equipment.  
“Good, good,” said the Emperor impatiently. “But he is no use to me in a tank.”  
“The laboratory are working on the creation of synthetic limbs,” explained the droid, adjusting some of the controls on the side of the tank as Vader moved in his restraints. “However they may be unable at present to attach them whilst the skin is so fragile.”  
“Do what you can,” grumbled the Emperor, he was in no mood for excuses. Going closer to the tank, he peered over into Vader’s pain-wracked eyes. In them he could see torment, hatred, fear... He wondered if Vader really saw him. “What about his memory?”  
“Lord Vader has undergone severe damage to the hypothalamus and central cortex,” said the droid monotonously (he could have been talking about a broken landspeeder rather than a human). “We believe that his long-term memory will already be severely, if not completely impaired. But there are suggestions also that Lord Vader is not comparable to the usual humanoid physique and therefore tests will be inconclusive until a full recovery has been made.”  
“I see,” the Emperor mused this over. It seemed the droid did not know what would happen until Vader was recovered. But that could take months and he did not have months. “I want you to press on with his recovery. As you say he is strong, he can take it.”

Symbol of the might of the new Empire, the massive Star Destroyer hovered in an unknown pocket of space, surrounded by a flotilla of attack cruisers, bristling with shiny guns only the heartless could admire. But the ships were full of them, the admirals and generals eager to fulfil the whims of the most evil mind of the Galaxy not questioning his grasping need to control and shape the star systems of the Old Republic. There were plenty of them and the Galaxy wept.  
On the bridge of the Star Destroyer stood the Emperor and Governor Tarkin, leader of the Imperial army, marvelling over their new creation glimpsed in the expansive windows of the enormous death machine.  
Lord Vader saw them conferring at the end of the walkway as he walked stiffly onto the bridge, marching slowly and with purpose towards them. He was still getting used to his new form; the rattling harshness of his breath sounding in his ears, his surroundings filtered through artificial lenses, heightening his vision but reminding him of one essential thing. He was no longer human… he was mostly machine. As he reached the end of the bridge, Sidious and Tarkin turned to greet him, Sidious looking at him in approval; seeing the fearsome mask that replaced the burnt remains of the handsome face; the mask that would come to haunt the Galaxy, a mask that would instil fear and awe in equal measures.  
Outside the vast framework of the spherical space station was beginning to take shape, its proportions dwarfed by the nearest moon but still larger than anything that had been attempted before. Like Vader it was a symbol of the new Empire, a symbol of fear that would destroy all resistance.  
“You have some news to report?” The Emperor knew that Vader’s presence on the bridge was not merely a social call.  
“We intercepted a transmission that suggests the remaining Jedi are using Polis Massa as a base to continue their insurrection,” said Vader, all traces of emotion removed from his voice by the synthetic breathing apparatus. “The amount of activity in the system is too much for it to be a coincidence.”  
“Splendid,” smiled the Emperor, “take as many troops as you need.”  
“Thank you, my Lord.”  
Inside his hood, Palpatine smiled to himself. Whilst the damage inflicted upon Vader had initially concerned him, in the end the Sith Lord had gained more than he had lost. Only his anger and hatred was keeping Vader alive now; gone was the conflict between light and dark that had characterised Anakin Skywalker to be replaced by ruthlessness, determination and cold efficiency. A perfect figurehead for his vision of a new Empire.


End file.
